Lost
by Jadebell
Summary: Based on the Lost/Unwound Future. Descole's time machine sends Luke, Layton and Flora ten years forward into an alternate future, where Layton finds himself up against the most cunning and dangerous foe he has ever encountered: himself. Evil!Layton fic; Hershel/Claire; Clive & Flora friendship.
1. The Pivotal Moment

**Author's Notes**

**Setting: **This fic features a "for want of a nail" alternate timeline scenario based on the future London shown in the _Lost/Unwound Future_, where one tiny change can result in a vastly different future. Unlike a lot of Evil!Layton AUs, the main characters are actually from the original unchanged timeline, and are transported from their own timeline to the alternate one. The mystery that follows involves Layton going head to head with his alternate self, all while trying to conquer the demons of his own past, eventually leading him to discover why he and the others were sent to the alternate future in the first place.

**Continuity: **For the purposes of this fic, a year passes between each game of the original trilogy. It is based on the UK versions; if there are differences from the NA versions I'll point these out in the respective chapters. I planned the plot outline before playing _Spectre's Call,_ _Miracle Mask_, and _Azran Legacy,_ so there are some inconsistencies with the canon from those games, particularly _Azran Legacy_. As a consequence, there are no spoilers from those three games.

However, this does follow canon as depicted in _Curious Village_, _Pandora's Box_, _Lost Future_ and the movie _Eternal Diva, _and subsequently there are major ending spoilers from those four entries in the series.

**Rating:** Rated T for torture, violence, murder/death and occasional bad language.

**Pairings: **Gen Fic so the focus is on the adventure itself rather than romance. Having said that the main pairing is Hershel/Claire, mainly because as mentioned above I'm following the events of 1st trilogy canon (despite the existence of the alternate timeline). There is also one-sided Dimitri/Claire and Clive & Flora friendship.

And I think that's everything. Off we go!

* * *

**Lost**

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Pivotal Moment**

* * *

It began with a handwritten letter. It always did.

If there was one thing Luke Triton was used to, it was seeing letters addressed to the professor. It had been a year since he had travelled to Folsense with Professor Layton for the Elysian Box case, and during that year Layton had become more and more famous, better known in London for his ability to solve the most complicated mystery than for his actual job as professor of archaeology. And, as Layton's prominence steadily increased, so did the number of letters coming in through the post, so much so that occasionally the letters turned out to be fake.

Luke found that the contents of this particular letter were no different, really, but the sender had scored full points in originality for sending the letter via carrion crow rather than a traditional postie. This was why Luke had received the letter well before Layton did; initially he had thought that the letter was intended for him. His name _did_ appear in the letter, but it was in the place he least expected to see it.

_Dear Professor Layton_, it read.

_It's been a long time. I hope this letter reaches you in good health. You may find what I am about to say quite far-fetched, and I would not expect you to believe me right away, but it is the truth. I am writing to you from 10 years in the future, and the London of my time desperately needs your help._

_Please come to the Big Cat enclosure inside London Zoo at 11 o' clock A.M. this Saturday. I will explain everything there. I look forward to seeing you._

_Your student and friend,_

_Luke Triton_

According to this, Luke was the sender.

It made no sense. He knew that he hadn't written this. There was no way the professor would fall for a prank so obvious.

The next thought that sprung to Luke's mind was Layton's archenemy, Don Paolo. Perhaps he wanted to lure Layton into a trap? But, it wasn't really his style... As a master of disguise, Don Paolo was usually far more subtle. Besides, Layton had only just foiled his latest scheme, which involved the theft of Big Ben. It was far too soon for Don Paolo to be up to no good. He may have been a genius engineer, and always quick to try to outdo his nemesis Layton, but even he wasn't that fast. He would have needed some time to work on whatever it was he would be planning next.

So the question was: why would someone pretend to be Luke and then send a letter to the _real_ Luke, knowing that the real Luke - and Layton - would instantly know it to be fake?

He took a closer look at the envelope, twisting it round. No return address, but the postmark was dated ten years in the future? How could that be possible? And what was so special about the zoo?

Luke decided that in this case the letter itself was the mystery, and was worthy of the professor's attention, at least for now. He folded the envelope and left the study, travelling through the corridors of Gressenheller University, finally locating Layton inside one of the classrooms.

Layton's lecture about Roman artefacts and how to interpret them had finished five minutes ago, and there were ancient coins and pottery dotted around the desk, but he seemed more interested in a rather glitzy, if small piece of paper in his hand.

"Hmm..." he said.

It was the kind of _Hmm_ that Luke automatically associated with puzzle-solving, and he fought to keep down his sense of excitement. He was very glad for the day off school due to the teachers' training day, because he could feel an adventure brewing.

"Hey, Professor. What's that?"

"Oh, Luke," said Layton, looking up. "They're... invitations to a gala presentation, my boy. Someone just brought it into me. Now, Luke." Layton lowered his voice, as if about to tell a big secret. "We must keep this between ourselves." Luke nodded. "In three weeks time, there will be a grand unveiling: the world's very first time machine."

"What?" exclaimed Luke, who hushed himself when Layton reminded him to keep his voice down. "Did you say time machine? As in, a real, working time machine?"

"That's what Doctor Stahngun would have you believe," said Layton, with a smile that Luke had come to interpret as: _I'll believe it when I see it_.

"But... Professor..." Luke took another look at the envelope. Was there a chance that the letter was actually real?

"What's wrong, Luke?"

"I think you'd better take a look at this letter..."

* * *

And that was how, on a bright, sunny Saturday morning, Layton and Luke found themselves riding the 274 bus towards the zoo at Regent's Park, if only to see who this mysterious person was. If the aim of the letter had been to get their attention, then it had certainly succeeded. It probably was nothing more than a silly trick by someone with too much time on their hands, but even if the sender's identity was fake, experience had taught both Layton and Luke that there was often more to these things than met the eye. The timing of both the letter and the invitation was just a little too coincidental.

The bus chugged along through the streets of London, soon reaching the greenery that marked the edge of Regent's Park. At the next bus stop they got off the bus and crossed the road, where the sight of the large white gates to the zoo greeted them. There was a queue to get to the ticket stand, but there didn't seem to be anybody remotely resembling a future version of Luke. They would have to go inside.

Before they could join the queue, however, a female voice called, "There you are!" and Luke's first thought was: _Oh, good grief._

Because there, with her orange dress, knee-high boots, and a very cross expression, stood Flora Reinhold.

* * *

After the events of St Mystere two years ago, Layton had become Flora's legal guardian. At first, he had been a little unsure of what to do with this new person that had suddenly entered his sphere of life. Adopting a fourteen year old girl as his own hadn't quite been the result he'd been expecting when he'd taken on that particular case. But for her sake he had forced himself to adjust. He had done his best to accommodate her and, in the months that followed, had since become very protective of his new charge.

Subsequently, on every occasion that warranted a good puzzle-solving Layton had tried - and failed - to leave Flora behind at home. The Elysian Box case had been perhaps the best example. Flora had followed both Luke and Layton all the way onto the Molentary Express train out of London towards Folsense, despite them both feeling that she should remain in London where it was safe.

And now at the entrance to London Zoo...

* * *

There stood Flora.

"Hello, Flora," said Layton, tipping his hat.

"Wha-?" said Luke, who was generally far more forthcoming about his feelings towards something than Layton was. "How'd you get here before us?"

"_I took the train_," she said, folding her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. "I'll have you know the London Underground railway is very fast, I don't understand your aversion to it. Perfectly valid form of transport."

"But it's still a bit of a walk here from the station," Luke persisted, genuinely puzzled. He was _sure_ they'd left her at Layton's house. On the other hand, this was a pretty typical Flora thing to do. It was almost a competition, in a way.

"So I took a bus from the station as well!" she said, waving her arms around for emphasis. "Anyway, never mind that!" She wagged an angry finger in the air. "I can't believe you two! How could you leave me behind again?"

"Well, technically you left _us_ behind," grumbled Luke. There was never any questioning on _how_ she always found out where he and the professor went off to. There could _be_ no questioning how she found out. She always just... did. Maybe it was some special kind of intuition, the same way Layton always seemed to know when something was fishy.

"I'm sorry, Flora," said Layton, and he did sound deeply apologetic. "But you know how I feel about you coming along on my investigations. I can't risk you getting hurt."

"But we're at London Zoo, not somewhere remote like Folsense," said Flora. "Who would try anything in front of all these people?"

"Flora, I am very well known throughout London for stopping criminals cold. There are those that might take advantage of your relationship to me..."

"Why would I be any safer staying at home? And how is it any different to you bringing Luke along on your crazy adventures?"

"C'mon, Flora," said Luke, "they're tens time more likely to kidnap you than me. _Fact_."

"All right, that's enough, Luke," said Layton, before Flora could pop a vein, an artery and perhaps her entire head in a violent explosion of rage. He sighed. "I suppose there's no harm in you coming along as well. This may well turn out to be a wild goose chase, after all."

"Thank you, Professor!" said Flora, finally smiling. "I promise I won't slow you down or be a burden or anything!"

"You're never a burden, Flora," said Layton. "I should be delighted of your company on this fair morning."

Flora beamed at this comment, apparently completely forgetting that she had ever been angry at all. Luke shook his head and sighed, but she was so happy she was practically bouncing all the way to the Big Cat area, and it was hard not to be swayed by her genuine enthusiasm. By the time they reached their destination, Luke was beaming right alongside her.

"So what are we looking for?" she asked as Layton took a moment to glance around.

"Someone who looks like a twenty-two year old version of me," said Luke.

"What?"

"You've gotta keep this hush-hush, all right?" said Luke. "Apparently someone's built a time machine."

Flora clasped her hands together. "Wow, how exciting!"

"Yes, indeed... if it turns out to be true," said Layton, glancing at his watch.

It was eleven A.M.

They waited.

A tiger was sleeping on its side a little way inside the cage. It twitched, but didn't stir.

Layton said, "This reminds me of a puzzle about animals in a zoo," and then proceeded to tell Luke and Flora all about it. Luke and Flora worked together and solved the puzzle.

They waited.

Luke came up with a puzzle about Troomoos and Nowheys, two breeds of cow. Layton left it to Flora solve this one. And she did.

They waited.

A married couple recognised Layton and asked if they could take a photo of the man in the top hat who had saved Big Ben, and he obliged.

They waited.

Finally, at twenty minutes past eleven, Layton said, "I say, Luke, your future self is not especially prompt for someone with time-travelling capabilities."

"Yeah, maybe this one was a dead end, Professor. Still, at least we can make a day trip out of it, eh?"

"Oh, look! Another tiger is coming this way," said Flora.

Indeed, a new tiger was making its way towards the tightly criss-crossed fence. The married couple from earlier began to point and take photos.

This tiger sat down on its haunches, and said: "So they wasn't tellin' me porkies after all!"

"Eh?" said Luke.

"Oh, is he saying something?" said Flora. Neither she nor Layton could speak to animals, and while Layton always politely left Luke to do his thing, today Flora seemed to feel the need to be involved in the conversation somehow, even though she couldn't understand a single growl. Her over-enthusiasm was still in play, it seemed.

"Did he say something about your future self?" she asked. "Or about the time machine?"

"She your bird, mate?" said the tiger.

"What did he say?"

"What did she say?"

"Hold on, hold on!" said Luke, an interpreter caught between having two things to translate at the same time. "One at a time. _No, she's not my bird__**.**_ And keep it down, please, Flora."

"Fine, fine," said Flora, who at last remembered that they weren't supposed to be broadcasting anything to do with the time machine. "I'll just - go over there." She walked a little way away to another part of the cage.

"Who's telling porkies?" Luke said in the Animal language, trying not to draw too much attention. He was pleased to see that Layton had struck up a conversation with the other two people a bit further away, in a cunning ploy to distract them. He didn't really like the idea of strangers knowing about his odd talent.

"The crows," said the tiger. "About you an' Top Hat. Them carrion crows just told me you was both in the zoo. Didn't expect to see ya, though."

"Top... Hat..." said Luke, in mild disbelief. Layton was famous amongst the London Zoo animals as well?

The tiger misinterpreted Luke's reaction. "Blimey, ain't you a slow one? You got your free-ranging birds from inside the park, innit? The crows, the seagulls, the pigeons. Always bringin' us the latest London news. 'Course, they always try an' half inch me food, too."

"You know about me and the professor?"

"Oh, yeah, 'course we do. It's like one o' them telly box fings you humans watch. Keeps us from going bananas in 'ere, you know. 'The adventures of Animal Speaker and Top Hat. What will happen next?' That kinda thing."

Luke couldn't help smiling. It was amusing to hear that he and Layton were stars in the animal equivalent of a soap opera.

"You haven't seen anyone else looking like me, have you?"

"Nah, don't think so."

"Have you seen anything suspicious today? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Take a butcher's up there, mate. That parrot? He talks the human talk. But he ain't no zoo animal. Just appeared suddenly, out o' nowhere, like. Frightened the life outta me, and I don't scare easily, believe me."

The parrot was up in a tree, directly above the tiger. It was preening its feathers with its beak, obviously proud of its bright green plumage.

Still looking up, Luke blinked in surprise. The parrot seemed to shimmer, turning into tiny little dots as if it was some kind of TV signal breaking up but in three dimensions; and then suddenly it rematerialised right in front of him.

"Warrrgh!"

"See what I mean?" said the tiger. "If that ain't strange, I dunno what is."

The parrot decided its next perch was going to be Luke's shoulder, which Luke found a little alarming, but at least it wasn't flying away. He'd need to show the professor.

"Blimey, I'd better tell the pro - Top Hat - about this. Thanks for the help, Mr Tiger."

"No probs," said the tiger. "Can't wait to 'ear about how Top Hat solves this one!"

Making sure the parrot was happy staying where it was, Luke walked quickly towards Layton.

"Professor!"

Layton excused himself from the others and turned to face Luke. Flora, too, had heard Luke's shout and came walking towards them.

"What's wrong, Luke?" said Layton.

"It's this parrot, it -"

And that was when the world seemed to blur together, in a spiralling mass of colours and shapes, before unifying to a dull grey...

* * *

...and then the world reformed again. Suddenly Luke felt tremendously ill, his stomach doing roly-polies and his head pounding hard as if someone was beating a metal bar against the inside of his brain.

"I… feel dizzy, Professor," he mumbled. There was no response.

He shook his head slowly, gradually losing the feelings of nausea and pain, and he looked to his side. Layton was nearby and seemed to be mildly disorientated as well, holding his head as if suffering from a headache.

_At least it wasn't just me_, thought Luke, _but what on earth's going on? _

The zoo had vanished, to be replaced by a mostly residential area, with various cars parked along the road, the odd red postbox, and a few trees dotted in front of the semi-detached houses. The only building that looked somewhat commercial was a golden-bricked arched structure about 50 metres away; it sort of looked like a college building.

There was nothing unusual about any of that, except that he didn't remember actually _arriving_ here. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever been to this part of London. He didn't recognise the street at all.

The parrot was gone. Had the parrot somehow teleported them all here? Maybe it _was_ the time machine...?

_Wait a minute..._

A new, cold feeling settled at the bottom of Luke's stomach, making him feel sick in an entirely different way. Where was Flora?

Layton recovered, turning to his apprentice. "Luke. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Professor - but Flora's missing! What happened? Where are we? How did we get here?"

"Oh, no... Flora!"

Layton called out a few times, casting a concerned glance across the street, and then his slightly worried look changed to one of mild recognition. "Wait... I know this street…"

"You do?"

Suddenly, a man rushed past Luke's back, almost knocking him over.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Luke yelled.

The man ignored him, continuing to sprint at full speed as if a house was on fire. "No, Claire!"

Layton's eyes followed the man scrambling towards the yellow building. And then they looked up towards that same building.

"This is not possible," he whispered, now appearing uncharacteristically dumbfounded. He took a step back. "_It can't be_."

"Professor? What's wrong?"

Luke had never seen him like this before; he was positively spooked. Given the amount of crazy escapades they had gone through together, Luke couldn't think how this quiet backstreet could possibly compare, but apparently there _was_ something about this place.

"Luke, quickly!"

The building exploded.

And that was the moment when Luke disintegrated.

* * *

Of all the moments to watch...

The pivotal moment. It was a fork in the road; a change in direction. All it took was one difference, and the river flowed along another path.

But he couldn't change its course.

Maybe this was the memory that would set him free? The one that would stop him from travelling in this direction?

The hidden memory of Bostro, Ward... and the future Professor Layton.

**[ - Hidden Memory #9 - ]**

"Bostro."

The voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge hidden underneath, and Bostro twitched nervously as he waited for the inevitable storm to erupt. Layton didn't really get angry, per se; he just turned into a complete icicle - cold, sharp and deadly - and would order a person's death without a second thought if he so desired.

Bostro was fervently hoping that he wasn't next on the list. He did know exactly why he had been summoned, though, and for some reason, Ward was still in the office; Layton hadn't dismissed him. Was Ward going to be his replacement?

Ward was leaning against the wall of the office, with his arms folded, nonchalant as usual. Bostro hated him right now. Him and his stupid glasses. It just wasn't fair. It was all right for _him_, he never had to personally deal with Layton's sadistic games. But if any members of the Family screwed up, Bostro was the one in the firing line.

"...You lost the boy again, didn't you?"

"But, boss..." he said, wondering what on earth he could say that would result in him not incurring Layton's icicle wrath. "You ordered us not to use so much force this time..."

"Indeed I did," said Layton, sighing. "It matters not. Dimitri has informed me of a rather... interesting development concerning Descole's time machine. The boy's condition has stabilised, thus his next emergence will be permanent. I now know precisely where he'll head to next, in the event you fail to capture him again."

Thank goodness for that. Layton no longer had the dangerous air about him, which probably meant he had been expecting the failure and didn't care about it. He was the kind of man who would have a contingency plan for a contingency plan. But Bostro's pride was large enough that he failed to accept defeat at the hands of a mere child.

"We'll get 'im for sure this time, boss."

"Really, you needn't bother, but... Well, I won't stop you. In fact, I thought you might like to try again. I'd like you to use the Guard robots this time."

"Eh? But Triton's spies always neutralise 'em."

"Exactly," said Layton. "It will be more convincing."

"Oh, I see... A set-up."

Layton nodded. "That being the case, I would like you to place this piece of paper onto the boy's person."

From his desk, he handed out a piece of paper to Bostro, who took it without question. One thing that hadn't changed about Layton over the years was his love for giving out puzzles, so there was nothing strange about this order.

Ward shifted position, unfolding his arms. "Do you still want me to meet up with them when they arrive?"

Layton regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, and then a small, but cruel smirk appeared. "Of course. It's not very often one is presented with an opportunity such as this one." He waved an imperious hand.

"You're dismissed. There is something I wish to discuss with Bostro in private."

Ward made a tiny salute with one hand, said, "You're the boss," and turned around to leave the office.

Bostro frowned after him, watching the double doors slam shut. Ward had only joined the Family very recently - about two weeks ago - but he'd already worked his way up through the ranks. Most of the Family members didn't even get to see their shadowy boss. Somehow Ward had managed it.

He looked back towards the desk, and there was dark amusement in Layton's eyes.

"Not jealous, are you?"

"Er... no." Oops. Had he been that obvious?

Layton chuckled. "Ward is undertaking a very specific task for me. You need not worry. Your position within this organisation is secure."

"Er... good to hear, boss," said Bostro, always freaked out by the way that Layton always seemed to know what everyone else was thinking.

"Now," said Layton, "how is our eagle-eyed little receptionist?"

"Heh," said Bostro, forming a devilish grin at the change in subject. "He's receiving 'treatment' as we speak."

"Excellent. Have the traitor brought down to him. I'd like to have a chat with them both."

**[ - 9 - ]**

So many lives, so many pasts, but only one future. Which memory was the right one?


	2. A New Companion

**Note: **I've placed Gressenheller University in a real-life area of central London called Bloomsbury, because that's where it looks like it's located in the map of London shown at the beginning of _Pandora's Box_.

**Extra note: **A few people have pointed out to me that the word "skeptic" should be spelled with a k. However, "sceptic" is the British spelling! Doesn't seem to be as well-known as "favour" versus "favor", so I've added this note here just in case. ^_^

* * *

**Chapter 2: A New Companion**

* * *

_What was time, but fleeting memories of the living? Events to be told, retold, logged, catalogued, and packed away into a nice neat tidy space inside the brain. Reshaped over generations, slowly fading away into non-existence as everything eventually died..._

_Billions of years compressed into a single moment._

_A single moment expanded into a billion years._

_Moments of the past..._

**[ - - ] **

Descole all but slammed his fingers on the organ, playing the Song of the Stars, just as he'd transcribed. Just as he'd planned. He would obtain the secret to eternal life if it killed him!

Melina's memories held within them the second part of the puzzle: the Song of the Sea. Although she had died, her memories had been transferred to the diva, Janice, and thus Janice was able to sing the second melody, too. Under the cover of night, with the stars sparkling overhead, the Song of the Sea rang out across the bay, loud, powerful and clear, but even with the organ and voice working in tandem... nothing happened. The sea was quiet, calming... and infuriatingly still.

Why wasn't it working?

**[ - - ]**

_Moments of the future..._

**[ - - ]**

"What's going on?"

"Dammit, we've been blocked out of that specific point in time!"

"He knew. He bloody well knew! Try another point just before or after eleven... Half an hour margin on either side."

"No can do. It's that bloody parrot! Shifted their magnetic field! One of them made it through... the other two are lost somewhere."

"Lost?"

"Wait, found them! They've relocated further in the past! To that specific moment..."

"They must have updated their tracking system. Dammit."

"We're losing them, sir! They're leaving space-time! They're breaking up!"

"Boost the power output, then! We can't lose them, you understand? I'll work on reversing the field."

"Am attempting to compensate... Increasing power to Scrambler Mode... Magnetic shift reversal successful... Stabilising molecular structure... Attempting to bring forward - T minus 10... 9... 8..."

**[ - - ]**

_Moments of the present..._

**[ - - ] **It was the moment when Luke disintegrated. **[ - - ]**

**[ - - ] **The moment when Luke woke up. **[ - - ]**

* * *

"Luke, can you hear me?"

Luke's head was throbbing again, and several spots and shapes danced across his field of vision, but he could feel someone's hands supporting his back. Slowly the pain and dizziness subsided, and his vision cleared. He was sitting on the ground, and Layton was bent down beside him in a protective, concerned manner.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Thanks." With Layton's help, he managed to stand up. "What... happened? We were at that street, and then that... building exploded... and now... we're back at the zoo?"

"Yes..." said Layton. "We're back. But... something is amiss."

That was an unspoken invitation to see if Luke could figure out what was wrong by himself. He made a _Hmm_ of his own, looking around the cage, around the entire enclosure. There _was_ something not quite right. It was like a spot the difference puzzle. What was wrong with this picture?

The position of the sun, the length of the shadows, the sudden, slight drop in temperature... The blossoms on the trees. It was early spring instead of summer?

"The angle of the sun..." said Luke. "It's... changed. We're in spring. And Flora's still missing. So... we've been sent across time?"

Layton nodded. "Possibly. It's too soon to know for sure, but... I recognised the location of the explosion. That event took place ten years prior to our present day."

"Ten years ago? Are you sure, Professor?"

"I'm positive, Luke..."

Even though Layton trailed off, he seemed incredibly sure. Luke wasn't going to argue with a determined face like that, especially after seeing how spooked the professor had been when they had actually been there. It did make Luke wonder just what had happened at that street, but he had a feeling that Layton wouldn't tell him if pressed. He'd never brought it up before, after all.

Luke changed the subject. "How far do you think we've travelled now? We're back at the zoo, but in a different time?"

"The author of the letter states that he is from 10 years in our future. If there is a real, working time machine, it would probably be found in that period. But, Luke, look around you. The changing season is not the only strange thing about this place."

They both looked towards the cage. A tiger was walking towards the fence but it wasn't the chatty male from earlier. Presumably it was the other one which had been sleeping.

"Hello, _darling_," it said to Luke - this one was a she. "I don't suppose I could trouble you with a little request? Could you put in a good word with Mr Top Hat? There's a good chap."

Luke was about to ask what she meant, but... then he noticed the piece of metal on her right ear, which reminded him of a time where he _hadn't_ been able to communicate with any animals, no matter how hard he tried - because the animals were being controlled.

"That looks like one of the animal control devices Descole used to use," he said. Layton had his fair share of enemies, and Jean Descole was one of them. A rival archaeologist and a great scientist, he had crossed swords with Layton - both literally and figuratively - a number of times. However, it had been a good three or four years since Layton had last heard anything from his former adversary.

"Indeed," said Layton. "Though... I can't fathom why a zoo animal would need to be controlled. They are already caged animals, after all."

"Maybe so, but... I don't think I can trust what she says," said Luke, shaking his head sadly.

"I agree. We'd better leave right away before she gives away our location."

_Right_, thought Luke, _Animal News Network_. "But what about Flora?"

"If we truly have travelled across time, she may well be somewhere else entirely. Perhaps she is still in our own time. If we can find the person responsible for moving us across time..."

"We find Flora. Right."

They walked back towards the entrance of the zoo, passing by several different enclosures along the way. Although the design of the zoo hadn't changed very much, Luke could see that all the animals they passed by were wearing some form of metallic collar or ornament on their head.

"Look, they're all wearing those control devices," he said. "Do you think Descole's the reason we're here?"

"There's not enough to go on to know for sure, but it seems very likely he's involved somehow... We need more information, frankly. Let's do a reconnaissance of central London and see what we can find."

"Right on, Professor."

On the other hand, all the humans they passed by cheered and waved at Layton... which really wasn't all that different from the present day. Luke realised it meant there was a future Layton as well as a future Luke, and said as such.

"Quite a peculiar thought, I must admit," Layton said, expression looking a little distant for a few moments. "I suppose I must still be doing the same thing after ten years."

"But that doesn't make sense," Luke said. "How can we exist in the future if we've gone from our time and come here? I don't exist in the past right now, so I never grew older by ten years... or maybe it doesn't matter because we eventually go back to our time anyway...?"

Layton chuckled. "Ah, a good old-fashioned time paradox. I expect we'll have to wait for our future selves to explain the situation. Let's hope they have a way to contact us again. Something tells me things didn't quite go according to plan."

"If I was me, I'd be looking for me right now," said Luke. He was wondering what a 22 year old him would be like. Would he be gentlemanly, like the professor? What kind of career would he have?

"Mmm... This sounds like it's going to get terribly complicated," said Layton.

"But really exciting! I wonder if they'll have spaceships and lasers here like they do on the telly!"

This time Layton laughed heartily. "Yes, it does present a rather unique opportunity for the both of us, doesn't it? But remember: don't let your enthusiasm cloud your judgement."

"Right, Professor!"

As they exited the front gates of the zoo, Luke spotted a strange pipe running across the ground along the pavement, and that was definitely something new. They followed the pipe, in the direction of the bus stop, and soon came across a builder, who was crouched on the ground, twisting a nut with a wrench, and working on some kind of large, rectangular, cog-filled machine attached to the pipe. The builder looked up at them and performed one of the most dramatic double-takes Luke had ever seen. He leapt up and dropped his wrench on the ground as he cast wide eyes on Layton.

"Holy crap! I-I mean - it's you!"

"You've heard of the professor, then?" said Luke.

"Heard of him?" said the builder. He seemed to be wearing some kind of mouthpiece underneath his yellow safety helmet; Luke presumed it was some kind of portable walkie-talkie. "Who hasn't?"

"Well, good!" said Luke. "It's about time the professor gained some recognition!"

Layton, rather predictably, declined to comment. "How long have you been working here, sir, if you don't mind me asking?" he said instead.

For a moment the builder looked put out by the question; he stuttered nervously and glanced away quickly. But then he turned his head back and grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Oh, wait, I see now. A test, izzit? Want to put ol' Art through his paces, eh? Well, we're just undertaking a bit of maintenance work on the ol' boilers, here."

"These pipes carry water?" said Layton.

"Yep," said Art. "The entire city runs off steam... The heat source is two-fold: we use solar power -" he pointed towards the zoo fence, behind which were some giant black panels that were tilted towards the sun "- and we also happen to have the world's first nuclear fusion reactors."

"Nuclear fusion...?" said Layton.

"Generates far more power than our old gas and oil supplies from the North Sea ever did. Enough to keep the United Kingdom going for decades, at a fraction of the cost, and far more friendly to the environment too. And it's all thanks to you, sir. You headed the research into renewable energy sources. Um... so... do I pass the test?"

"With flying colours," said Layton, smiling.

"Erm... Well, in that case, I'm going to get back to work if you don't mind. The guv'nor sure ain't gonna be happy if he finds I've been slacking off..."

"Certainly. We'll be on our way now." Layton tipped his hat to say goodbye.

After he and Luke continued along the road for a bit, he came to a stop again, and he said, "Well, Luke... It would appear that the reason I am so well-known is that I have invented - or helped bring about the installation of - a new power source. Sustainable and enough to power all the United Kingdom, apparently."

"That's all fine and dandy," said Luke, "and great for the UK, I s'pose, but... it doesn't make any sense. You're an archaeologist. Why would you suddenly change your specialist subject and research something else entirely?"

Layton frowned deeply. "We simply don't know enough." He had _that_ look, the one that said he had his suspicions but wasn't going to divulge them just yet. "Let's continue to the bus stop."

As they did so, a carrion crow cawed twice, loudly, from the air. The sound caught Luke's attention, and he immediately stopped and looked up in a nearby tree. The crow stood out amongst the other three crows in the tree, in that it had a little satchel attached to its back. It shuffled sideways along the branch, and then flew down to the ground in front of Luke.

"Message for the Little Animal Speaker," it said to Luke. "From the Big Animal Speaker."

"Ah! It's from my future self," said Luke, in English.

"Interesting," said Layton. "It would appear that your future self has found us after all."

Luke bent down, untying the clasp of the satchel and taking out an envelope which contained a piece of paper. He unfolded the paper, to reveal another letter:

_Dear Professor Layton & Luke_

_If you are reading this, then it means you've both made it safely to my time. I apologise for the brief detour to the past. Our time machine suffered from external interference and you were mistakenly drawn backwards in time. Regrettably, this disruption to our operations means that I am, at the present time, unable to meet you in person. Please do not worry about Flora. She was transported to another part of the city, and I am working to make sure she is retrieved._

_Please find enclosed two small metal rings. Do not hesitate to put them on - they mask temporal signatures and will make it safe for you travel throughout this time. I will meet you at Russell Square in roughly two hours' time, along the square's northern junction with Woburn Place. In the meantime, I would recommend that you pay a visit to Gressenheller University, and see for yourselves what our city has become. It should be safe for you to do so, and the professor may very well find out some interesting things about his future self._

_Take care,_

_Luke Triton_

Luke frowned in disappointment. "This raises more questions than it answers. What does he mean by 'it should be safe for us to do so'? Has that got something to do with the time paradox? And why couldn't he just send someone else to meet us? It almost sounds like he's hiding."

"Perhaps time travelling is not permitted in the future," Layton said, "and there are serious repercussions should one be found using a time machine."

Luke didn't like that idea one bit. What if Descole had taken over London, and his future self was on the run? Just what had happened to the professor's future self? Forced to come up with an energy plan that would fuel Descole's evil deeds?

_That's what we're here to find out, I suppose..._

"Luke, shall we examine the envelope's contents?"

Luke nodded, and poured the rings carefully into his hands. Layton studied his ring for a moment before putting it on. "Hmm... There's nothing particularly striking about these rings..."

"I don't feel any different," said Luke, holding out his hand in front of his face.

" 'Scuse me, you done, yet?" said the crow suddenly. "I need you to put my bag back on, quick. I've gotta get back before the other crows give the game away."

Luke bent down and obliged. "Who sent the letter?"

"You did. Your older self. He's me boss."

"Are you sure it was my future self and not someone pretending to be me?"

"No, I'm not sure at all," the crow said, ruffling its feathers irritably. "I'm no more sure that he's Luke Triton than I am that _you_ are Luke Triton. I'm just a messenger bird. But if it makes you feel better, I trust him. He's a good person. That I do know. He freed me from Descole's control tag."

Before Luke could ask anything else, the crow took flight, and he sighed gently in frustration. The professor had been right: this really was becoming complicated. "What should we do, Professor?"

"I think we should follow the instructions in the letter," said Layton. "So far it's our only real hint, and I'm quite eager to meet my own future self."

"Your future self... should be at the university. Right." He shook his head gently, clearing himself of his doubts and questions, and he smiled at Layton. "Let's go!"

* * *

_So_, thought Flora, wrinkling her nose in disdain. _One minute I'm in London Zoo, the next I'm standing inside a sewer. How many picarats is this puzzle worth?_

The first thing she had thought of was this time machine that Luke had mentioned, assuming it wasn't someone performing a grand hoax. But instant teleportation wasn't exactly something you could fake, not easily anyway. For now she'd stick to the most obvious conclusion; uncovering the real truth behind something was Layton's department.

She would have been a great deal more excited at the prospect of time travel if she hadn't ended up inside a _sewer_. Couldn't Luke's future self have picked a better place to transport her to?

That thought made her pause. Where were they, anyway? Layton and her Luke. Where had they ended up? Suddenly she felt panic set in, clawing in at her insides like a ravenous one-eyed monster. She shouldn't be afraid, she always told herself. She should face her fears head on. She was sixteen, she wasn't a little kid any more...

But she hated the idea of being alone, and she was down in this deep, dank sewer, without any idea of whether she was still in London or not, and there could any number of creepy crawlies or rats just lying in wait, ready to pounce...

She could have faced it all as long as Luke and the professor were there. It was the loneliness that got to her. That was the worst part. Not the things she would face, but the fact that she'd be alone in facing them. And then she stopped herself. This was precisely why they always left her behind, wasn't it? Because they thought she wouldn't be able to handle a situation like this. If she gave up now, she'd only be reinforcing their point.

With that thought in mind, she picked a direction and began to walk along the stony platform beside the water, through the sewer tunnel, as afraid as ever, but with a certain determination. She'd been through the sewers of St Mystere before, this couldn't be all that different, could it? There had to be a ladder to the surface somewhere.

This was the whole point of being courageous, wasn't it? To be afraid, and yet to go forward despite your fear. She couldn't help wondering if the professor had ever been afraid. If he was ever afraid, he certainly never showed it. The mere thought of him was comforting, though, and diluted the fear somewhat. It gave her something to look forward to, a purpose for going on ahead.

They had a bit of an odd relationship, did Layton and Flora. Sort of father/daughter... but not quite. Officially he was her legal guardian, and as such he had done everything he could to ensure she was properly looked after, but... well... he had never really seemed to know how to act around her. Which, upon reflection, was perfectly understandable. Layton just wasn't used to kids. Of course he'd had Luke around to stay on the odd occasion, and they got on like a house on fire, but, no matter how well Layton knew Luke, having your very own child as a permanent resident was a completely different kettle of fish to having someone else's kid stay for a little while.

Even so, he was the closest thing she had to a father now, and truthfully, she was happy that Layton had been the person to solve her father's last great riddle. Only a person possessing integrity, kindness and ingenuity could have solved the mystery of the Golden Apple, and Layton possessed those qualities in spades. And then... Having him around in those dark days just following her departure from St Mystere, just _knowing_ that he was there helped ease the pain of losing her own father. She was immensely grateful that he had just accepted her into his life, without complaint.

Yes, she thought, she did see Layton as a father figure. She knew deep down he cared about her in the same way too. She just wished that he'd express it more openly sometimes. Maybe then she wouldn't feel like she had to follow him around all the time.

The sound of water gushing through the system below was suddenly punctuated by somebody sniffling and coughing, round the next sharp corner, and Flora slowed her pace.

"Luke?" she ventured.

A boy roughly Luke's age came dashing round the corner, but he wasn't Luke. Wielding a broken metal pipe like a baseball bat, he came charging forward with an almost inhuman battle cry. She screamed, shocked into staying still, but then the boy stopped himself short mid-swing.

"Oh, gosh!" he said, looking horrified. He dropped the metal pipe; it fell to the ground with a clank. "I'm really, really sorry! I thought you were someone else!"

Someone else? In the middle of a sewer? Flora was shaking, partly from the shock but also partly with anger. "I don't care who you thought I was! That's not the way to treat anybody, never mind me!"

He shrank back, avoiding her eyes. "Umm... I'm sorry. I really am! I was running from some thugs, and they had all these robots... And, I thought they'd caught up with me... I thought you were one of the robots."

The boy looked tense and was still breathing hard; and his eyes looked past her for a moment. He seemed to be telling the truth... about the thugs, at least.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. "Why on earth are thugs after you? Did you steal some money from them, or something?"

"Hey!" he said, turning his gaze back to her and frowning in indignation. "Nothing like that! I'm no thief! I-I just..." He cast his eyes down at the floor. "I don't know why they were chasing me... I've never seen 'em before in my life. They must have me mixed up with someone else."

Flora suddenly realised that just because she had teleported into a sewer, it didn't necessarily mean she was still in London. "Do you know if we're in London?"

"Yeah..." he said, his gaze turning suspicious. "Not sure exactly where, but I heard one of the thugs say so. Why?"

Flora paused. How could she bring up the subject without mentioning the time machine? For some reason, though, her thoughtful expression seemed to stir something in him; his face brightened up.

"Wait... were you transported here? By _unusual_ means?"

_Bingo_, thought Flora. "Er... One moment I was at London Zoo," she said. "And then the next thing I know, I'm here."

"I knew it! So you were teleported here as well. Goodo. I mean, it's not good that we're both in a sewer, but, well, uh... Heh. I'm glad it's not just me."

Flora nodded. She could definitely identify with that. "Do you know how it happened?"

"I think it's got something to do with the Institute," said the boy, frowning a little.

This statement took Flora by surprise. _Institute?_ she thought.

He said, "This might sound utterly crazy, but..."

Here he paused, eyeing her with suspicion again, as though expecting her to dismiss his story as a lie even before he'd told it, but she nodded encouragingly, thinking, _I've seen some strange things with the professor. Try me._

"Please, go on. I don't bite, I promise."

"Well... Okay then. One minute I was outside my house, and then suddenly - poof! - I was here." He gestured with both hands to emphasise 'my house' and 'here'.

"Then, I was attacked by thugs, then I was back at my house again, then I was here, then I was back, then I was here again..." His brow furrowed, as if he was trying hard to remember something. "It's all a bit of a blur, really. It felt like that happened all at the same time..."

Poor guy, it sounded like he had been doing a lot of time travelling without really wanting to. Time travelling wasn't really much fun if it amounted to being the equivalent of a tennis ball during a fierce Wimbledon match.

"And then the last time I teleported, I remained here. But then those gangsters attacked me again, and... I got away from them."

"That sounds awful!"

"It was kinda scary... Something messed up those robots, though. I think I lost them..." He glanced back the way he came rather nervously, and Flora decided that between sewer rats and aggressive gangsters with robots, perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to compare notes with him after all.

"Maybe we should try to find the Institute," she said. "Do you know where it is?"

He sighed. "Yeah, it's right next door to where I live... My dad says they're always experimenting with magnetic fields and stuff, so it wouldn't be the first time something weird's gone and happened."

This was sounding more and more like a time machine was involved. If this boy knew something about the time machine, maybe he knew where Luke's future self was? He sounded like he had a tiny bone to pick with the time machine's creators, but then that was reasonable given that these people, whoever they were, seemed to be using him as some kind of guinea pig. If the Luke of the future happened to be the one responsible for this mess_, _she _would have words_.

His expression changed from one of mild annoyance, morphing into worry. "But... the latest experiment was a big one. I was outside playing, and... I saw it. It - it - the lab, I mean - it kind of exploded. There was fire coming out and everythin'. I hope everyone's okay..."

_Uh oh,_ she thought. That didn't sound good...

"We'd better hurry back, then," she said. "Do you know of a way out of here?"

He nodded. "I think I saw a ladder to the surface on my way here. Oh...! My name's Clive by the way," he added. "Might be useful to know each other's names if we're gonna travel together."

"Right! I'm Flora. Nice to meet you."

"Same to you."

"Well, after you!"

* * *

"Well," said Luke, "there's the bus stop... And it looks completely different."

Indeed, the bus stop flag was the only thing that hadn't changed. Identical to the present day, it still displayed the distinctive red Transport for London roundel. The shelter's design had changed immensely, however. Instead of having a curved roof and red-coloured sides, the shelter had a flat, rectangular roof, with black panels placed all across the top, and its sides were made of a shiny, reflective metal.

A tall, blue pole stood on the other side of the shelter, with a dot matrix display indicating bus routes and expected times of arrival. There was a pipe snaking upwards around the pole's left side, and this pipe was connected to what appeared to be a boiler on the ground. The water for the display's operation seemed to be coming up from underground.

"Gosh!" said Luke. "They've got displays that tell you when the next bus is coming. Futuristic or what?"

"Remarkable," said Layton, staring at the black panels on the roof. "They are all orientated to face the sun. Is the water being heated directly by the sun? What happens in the winter, I wonder?"

Luke knew that Layton was a man of details. He was just as fascinated by the technology of the present - and future - as he was in the relics of human past. What Luke _didn't_ know was whether these current details were enough - whether Layton really believed they were in the future. Perhaps he was reserving judgement until they had some solid proof...?

In fact, Luke wasn't sure himself. But they'd definitely been teleported at the very least across space, if not time. He remembered his theory about the green parrot being a time machine, and then remembered that Layton hadn't seen its little trick. The problem was, Layton never liked to be _told_ that something was true; he preferred to gather information in order to discover the truth for himself. It wouldn't be enough for Luke to tell him about the parrot. He'd need to see the teleportation with his own eyes.

But it didn't matter. If Luke was right, then they'd be seeing the parrot again soon.

Suddenly, Layton turned his head right round, and Luke followed his gaze. A man in a purple suit was walking towards them. He wore a white hat and thin-rimmed glasses. There was something unsettling about the way he stared at them both. That small smile was as though he were privy to the world's largest secret and he wasn't about to start sharing anytime soon. Luke thought that this made him look like the kind of dodgy dealer that you'd only find in the grimiest parts of London, and he watched him closely as he came to a stop beside them at the bus stop.

"You're Professor Layton," the man said.

Ever the polite gentleman, Layton tilted his hat. "Yes. Good afternoon, sir."

"From the past, I mean. Ten years, isn't it?"

Suspicion crept into Layton's eyes. "What makes you say that?"

The corners of the man's lips turned up into a rather nasty smirk. "Ever the sceptic, aren't you? I must assert that this future is very real, Professor Layton. However... my boss would much rather you tried to solve its mysteries on your own. Think of it... as a test."

"And who exactly is this boss of yours?" said Layton.

"If I told you, it would kill all the suspense, wouldn't it? Tell you what, I'll give you a hint... I'm with the Family. My name's Ward."

"The Family?" said Luke.

"That's all you're getting." Ward turned back around, making a nonchalant wave of the hand. "My boss is watching you, Layton. Don't disappoint him."

Ward sauntered away, and Layton frowned after him.

"That sounded like a threat, Professor..." said Luke.

"The great puzzle of future London... I think, my boy, that I have been challenged to solve it. By whom, and what the stakes are, however, remain to be seen."

"Yeah... Somehow I don't think he was talking about my future self," said Luke. But who had set the challenge? Descole? Or someone else?

He heard a whirring mechanical noise that took him out of his thoughts, probably from a low-flying military craft. Until he looked up and realised that it wasn't a military craft at all.

The 274 bus was flying.

"My word," said Layton.

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #10 - ]**

Leaning against the wall, Ward fidgeted with the control device linked to the wolf that guarded the boss's office. The wolf, Benji, seemed to be fighting against the programming and it would be disastrous if he ever regained his independence. Benji was currently asleep on the floor, next to Ward.

Ward looked up and across the hallway as his boss opened the large door and came out of his office, whispering orders to the Family henchmen at either side of the door. He raised an eyebrow at him as he passed by. "Problem, boss?"

"Oh, no. None at all." Layton had an _it's none of your business_ air about him, and Ward chose his next words carefully.

"I saw your past self at London Zoo," he said. "Just like you said. I take it you already know where he'll go next?"

"Not exactly. However, I imagine he will probably want to see me. He has gone to Gressenheller University, if I'm not mistaken."

"And you still don't want us to bring him to you?"

"Oh, no. Absolutely not. He must solve the puzzle without my help. I believe Dimitri is in the Bloomsbury area anyway, for reasons that I do not know. Something has obviously piqued his interest. He may well pick up my past self for me."

"What about Triton?" said Ward, mindful to keep an eye on Benji.

"I'm ready for him," said Layton smugly. "If he shows up, don't interfere. I've been working on a project of my own for the past few months... I'm ready to try it out."

"You're sure, are you?" said Ward, frowning. Finally, the control device bleeped to indicate that it was fully operational, and he could breathe a sigh of relief - once Layton was out of earshot, anyway.

"Everything is going according to plan. Not even my past self will be able to stop me... although I certainly welcome him to try."

Ward wondered whether there was an award in the Guinness Book of Records for _world's largest smirk_, because Layton would have easily won, no contest. The head of the Family was clearly looking forward to the upcoming challenge.

**[ - 10 - ]**


	3. Machine Metropolis

**Note: **Edgar (UK) = Hazel (US)

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and to all those reading. ^_^ It makes writing this all worthwhile.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Machine Metropolis**

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #1 - ]**

Jean Descole had always been fascinated by the brain's ability to create intangible and indefinable things, such as memories and emotions, from seemingly concrete, traceable electrochemical reactions. You could take your little finger, and trace a neurological pathway all the way up to the brain, and you would find all memories, emotions and experiences associated with that particular part of the body linked in the same part of the brain. It was why some amputees felt that a missing limb was still physically there. The brain fooled itself. The memory of the limb's existence remained within the brain, so the physical sensation - or so the brain thought - should be there also.

This made manipulating memories all the more fun, in Descole's opinion. You could play all sorts of little mind tricks with the brain and force it to come up with physical scenarios that didn't truly exist, if you knew how. Memories themselves were in turn connected metaphysically to the flow of time, and thus a working time machine with the means to travel to a true physical past was possible.

For example: if Descole were to take the chair next to him, then that chair existed in the now. In the present. If, however, he were to light a match and burn it down, it would no longer exist in the physical sense.

But the memory of its existence had been recorded. It still existed as an imprint within his mind. It was this that formed the basis behind one aspect of his temporal theories. If something existed once, for even just a fraction of a second, it could be used as a timeline reference point.

It also worked the other way, as well. If the brain had a project envisioned - a piece of art, or a musical composition - those thoughts of the future could be used in exactly the same way. If your mental will was strong enough, and you had the means to create a wormhole, you could go anywhere you wanted.

So, although Descole had failed to procure the elixir of life, he had not seen that as a setback. It had only made him all the more determined to find a way to extend his life. Before Melina had died, his Detragan machine had successfully stored a copy of her memories inside Janice's body, and the knowledge he had acquired from that process had not gone to waste. In the four years since the Ambrosia incident he had been working on a time machine that used the human brain as a reference point. And now it was almost complete.

In theory the machine should have been ready to start producing wormholes, but in reality he had reached a road block in acquiring enough energy to power such a device, and that meant that at the moment the time machine could only go one way. However, he had recently discovered that someone else had already attempted time travel nine years prior to him. He was particularly interested in the test subject. What the scientists had done was theoretically impossible, almost as if they had bent the rules of physics to accommodate them. He had to know more.

It was time to track down one Dimitri Allen.

**[ - 1 - ]**

* * *

The wind danced, blowing up dust particles around the pavement, and Layton held on tightly to his hat as the flying 274 bus came in to land in the middle of the road. There was a hot-air balloon affixed firmly to its roof, and as it landed, its metallic wings folded away neatly underneath. Apart from the obvious differences, it kept a similar design to the buses of the past; it was still very much a bright London bus red, and its entry doors were situated at the back.

The doors folded open, and a skinny, freckled man in a black uniform popped his head out. One could only assume he was the bus conductor.

"I thought it was you, sir. Fancy a lift?"

_Ah_, thought Layton. _There's that fame again._ The bus driver must have seen him from the air. He was beginning to wonder whether he should make more of an effort to keep out of the spotlight in his own time. Not that he deliberately _tried_ to make the headlines... But he would have to go along with it for now.

"Good day, sir," he said. It occurred to him that the bus route may have changed, so he asked, "Does this route go towards central London?"

"It does now, sir. Where would you like us to take you?"

"Well, if at all possible, I would like to pay a visit to Gressenheller University, in Russell Square."

"Ah, giving them a surprise visit?" said the conductor. He tapped his nose with his index finger conspiratorially. "That'll keep them on their toes."

_What does that mean?_ thought Layton. _This situation just keeps getting more and more curious..._

"We'll take you straight there, sir," the conductor said.

"You mean you can take us there directly?" said Luke. "Without any stops in between?"

"Of course! I'll just have a word with the driver and get our destination changed, and then we'll be on our way."

"But what about the other people on the bus?" said Layton, who found such changes in destination a bit of a bother whenever they happened on ordinary buses. "I don't want to be any trouble."

"No trouble at all, sir! The bus will get us to Russell Square in no time flat, so they won't have long to wait."

Layton frowned, not entirely convinced. "That's not the point," he said. "They shouldn't have to wait at all."

"I insist, sir. Trust me: no one will mind."

The sad thing was that that was probably true. He gave in. When in Rome... "Very well..."

The conductor led them upstairs, where Luke ran across the length of the bus, and Layton couldn't help smiling. The boy always became so excited at times like these, all the more so right now because of the television screen at the front of the bus. Even so, he uttered words of caution to him; after all, a true gentleman should remain calm at all times.

Luke always liked to sit next to the window when travelling, so he picked a seat towards the front of the bus. Layton followed him, and then reached inside his pocket, pulling out his wallet.

"How much is the fare for an adult and a child to Russell Square?"

"Oh, no, we couldn't have you _paying_, sir..."

"This time _I_ insist," said Layton firmly.

"Well, um, you can't pay with cash anyway," said the conductor, looking flustered. "Don't you remember? We've got the Com Link system."

"Ah, yes. Of course," said Layton, who had absolutely no idea what the man was talking about. Fortunately, Luke served well in occasions such as these; as a child, he could ask questions without arousing suspicion, and this is precisely what he did.

"Com Link?" he asked.

"Out-of-towner, eh?" The conductor pointed to the headpiece on his forehead. "This is a Com Link." He pushed a button on it, and a visor mechanically unfolded in front of the man's eyes.

"See, you put credit on it, and use it to pay for goods and services. And - they've got loads of little features, like this ..." He pushed another button, and a map of central London appeared in mid-air.

Layton stared at the vibrant image, obviously some kind of projection - but how did it work?

"Wow! Cool!" said Luke. "Oh, er... but what if it gets stolen? That'd be pretty bad."

"Nah, they've got sensors that detect who's wearing them. Besides, they're cheap as dirt. Every man and his dog's got one.

"Anyway," he said, closing away the device, "we'd best get a move-on or we _will_ be getting some complaints. If you really feel like you must pay, sir, we can set up a tab for you, but I wouldn't feel right, charging _you_, sir..."

"It's fine," said Layton. Did his future self really travel free on the buses? That didn't seem right. He was going to have to have a severe talk with himself.

"...If you say so, sir," said the conductor. "Oh... would you like me to contact HQ? Inform them that you're here?"

"Er... that... won't be necessary," said Layton, again not having any real idea of what he was talking about.

"Woah, guess this really is a surprise visit. Seatbelts on? Yes? Well, off we go!"

The conductor cupped a hand to his face and yelled, "HOLD TIGHT!"

He pulled on a string, making a _ding! ding!_ noise - this, at least, was the exact same procedure as on the buses back home, and the driver took this as the cue to get going. The conductor then went downstairs to the lower deck, and this left Layton and Luke alone, free to discuss amongst themselves.

"This is all so amazing," said Luke, as the bus slowly climbed higher. "It's even better than I imagined! But... even so... something seems strange about all this, Professor. About your future self, I mean."

Layton agreed. He was pleased that Luke had picked up on it as well. "Yes, but I can't put my finger on why. I feel like there's something about my so-called future self that I'm missing. There's more to all this than meets the eye, Luke."

"What on earth are our future selves up to, that's what I want to know," said Luke.

"With any luck, we'll see them - or find a clue as to where they might be - at the university."

"Ah, Professor, look!" said Luke, pointing energetically out towards the window.

They had flown south over Regent's Park, and were now high enough to get a good view of London from above. The bustling city was a sea of sparkling blue and silver rooftops. It was London... and yet it wasn't.

Layton could see the familiar curves and bends of the streets, the very same central London junctions that he knew like the back of his hand - the odd looming skyscraper; the busy, thriving offices; the roaring, hiccupping pubs; the lively, snazzy hotels - but every single building had had huge motorised gears incorporated into their structure. With cogs winding and pistons grinding, it was as though someone had performed a mechanical upgrade on the entire city.

Metal pipes ran along the edges of the roads and up the sides of the buildings, providing the hot water necessary to keep the clockwork mechanisms running. Giant black solar panels were slanted at an angle on top of most roofs, and there were red lights in rectangular formation on certain other roofs, presumably for the multitude of aircraft floating through the sky.

"My word," he said. "London has been transformed into a machine."

* * *

Flora and Clive had come up out of the sewers into a street where large stone lions stood poised to attack any potential intruders, cooked chickens hung upside down in restaurant windows, and red lanterns were strewn across shop signs and lampposts. The narrow street was pedestrianised and paved with large stones. A few people walked past, some of whom were tourists stopping to take pictures beside the stone lions (which Flora had to admit, did look rather impressive, with their mouths open wide in mid-roar). Other people were just locals getting from point A to point B.

The day was bright and sunny, and not too cold, but what Flora noticed the most was that the smell had improved. Those chickens in the nearby restaurant were smelling quite delicious. There was a strange buzzing noise coming from up above, somewhere beyond this street. Flora couldn't quite place it; it sounded a bit like a helicopter rotor crossed with an airplane engine, and it seemed as though there was more than one source.

"I don't remember this part of London," said Clive.

"Neither do I," said Flora. She looked up at a long, colourful banner that hung from one side of the street to another, and read: "Welcome to London Chinatown."

Clive looked up at the nearest street sign. "Let's see, the postcode is W1, so... we're in central London. The West End."

Flora nodded, staring at her companion. Now that they were both out of the darkness of the sewers and in the brightness of the outside world, Flora could see why she had initially thought she was seeing her Luke coming round the sewer corner. Despite wearing a mixture of greens and browns - an outfit that included a green hat - Clive could easily have passed for Luke.

The subject of her scrutiny shifted positions, fidgeting awkwardly with the side of his light-green shirt. "...Are you still angry with me? I really am sorry for attacking you..." He trailed off rather miserably, and Flora instantly felt guilty for suspecting him of stealing earlier.

"Oh, no! Not at all. I'm sorry, it's just that you look like a friend of mine. I was just wondering if you were related at all."

He looked really confused now, as if he had turned into the world's largest question mark. "Um... well, I'm an only child, if that helps..."

"Sorry, it's nothing. Probably just a coincidence. We should probably try to find out where exactly we are... so we can figure out how to get to that Institute from here."

"Right!" he said, expression clearing. "I'll ask that guy over there."

Said person was leaning with his arms crossed, in the middle of a small pagoda structure.

"Um, excuse me, mister, do you know how to get to Hampstead from here?"

"Eh? You want the 24 bus, you do," said the man. "Or you could take the Tube, it'll be less busy. The Northern line goes directly there." He pointed towards a street over Clive's shoulder. "Take a left out of there, you should see the Tube station."

"Hampstead?" said Flora when Clive came back. The funny thing about living in London was that you could live there for years and still not see everything the city had to offer. "Is that where you live?"

"Yeah, it's in north London. Do you know Hampstead Heath? It's north of Camden Town."

"That sounds quite far for us to get to..."

"Shouldn't take too long if we're in central London and there's a Tube station nearby."

Following the man's directions, it only took them a couple of minutes to leave behind the lions and red lanterns. They exited from a small side street, and onto a busy main road, where the London Underground station sign clearly said, "Leicester Square". Flora now knew where she was. Leicester Square was part of one of London's entertainment districts, and people would come here to see a movie premiere, or to watch a colourful musical production, or to dine in an exquisite restaurant.

But this Leicester Square wasn't quite the same. In contrast to Chinatown, all the buildings here had large rotating wheels built into them. Pipes coiled around the metallic buildings and slithered along anything that required power. The bright red telephone boxes, the newspaper stands, the lampposts: they all had pipes.

And then there were the vehicles. Buses and cars were floating through the streets above by hot-air balloon, directed by traffic lights attached to the buildings at second floor level. There were even drawbridges across buildings, operated by the cog-filled machinery, lifting upwards when a traffic light turned green. On the ground, people rode what could be described as hovering scooters along the road.

"What _is_ this?" said Clive. "This isn't London!"

Flora was amazed by the sight, but, as someone who had not only grown up in a village surrounded by robots, but who had also known an incredibly skilled engineer, she was slightly less surprised. "I thought you knew about the time machine? Isn't that where we're going now?"

He stared at her as though she'd suddenly grown six extra heads. "Time machine? You're not serious, are you?"

"Well of course I am. How else would you explain all this?"

"I knew it! I knew they were working on something dodgy! How far ahead have we gone?"

Without waiting for an answer, he took off towards the station.

"Wait!" said Flora, struggling to get past crowds of people in order to follow him. Central London had always been full of people, but it seemed that it was even busier in this future, and she didn't want to lose him. She didn't want to be alone in this place.

She panicked when he disappeared into the station, but fortunately he hadn't gone far. She found him inside looking at the information whiteboard, which had the current date scribbled in black marker pen at the top.

"Twenty years..." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I've gone twenty years into the future... Unbelievable..."

"I've been sent forward only ten years," said Flora, coming to stand beside him. "So... let's see, that means you're from ten years in my past."

"That's strange... that we're from different times, I mean."

"Looks like we're in the same boat, though."

"Right..." said Clive, looking down at the ground despondently.

"We'll be fine!" she said, in an attempt to cheer him up. "Don't give up, we'll find a way out of this."

He whirled round to face her with a wild anger in his eyes. "How can you be so optimistic? We're lost in the middle of a futuristic London with no idea of how to get back to our respective times!"

She was startled by the strong reaction, but she recovered, meeting his glare head-on. "Well, we're not exactly lost. We know where we are, it's just that it's not the same time. There must be a way back."

"How do you know that? How do we even know the Institute will still be there when we get there? It _exploded_!"

"I know because of my friend Luke. You know, the one I told you about before. His future self sent for me... for us in the past. We were supposed to meet at London Zoo. Something must have gone wrong. But he must have known I was coming."

"Your friend?" His expression changed, softening into one of befuddlement. Flora had to admit that if she found out she had a twin out there somewhere, she'd be pretty nonplussed as well. "You mean... the one who looks like me?"

"Yes, same one. He's always with the professor. In fact..." She put her hands together as inspiration struck. "Maybe the professor is still teaching at the university! We could go pay him a visit first! He'll know what to do. The uni's nearer than Hampstead, too, so if we can get on one of those flying buses we'll be there in no time."

"Flying bus? Why can't we just take the train like normal people?"

"Where's the fun in that? I can take the Tube any day I want." She made a sweeping movement with her right arm, imitating a plane taking off. "Don't you want to see what's it like to fly through the streets of London? To soar through the air above, and see the city as you've never seen it before?"

She was never quite sure what it was about her keenness that was so infectious, perhaps because it was so assured, as if getting on a flying bus could and should be an every day thing to do, but now he was smiling, as though finally believing that all hope wasn't lost.

"Okay," he said, "you've convinced me. Who's this professor of yours?"

"Well, you probably wouldn't know him in your time, but in my time he's very famous. And he's incredibly smart. He can solve _any_ riddle. If anyone can figure out what to do, he can."

She pointed a motherly finger at him. "Look, we're in this together, all right? Don't you dare run off without me again, hear?"

"All right," said Clive, still grinning. "Sorry I freaked out. It's just... well... Time travel? It's not exactly something that happens every day, is it?"

"Don't worry, it'll all be fine. You'll see. It's just like being on one of the professor's adventures."

Clive's shocked look returned. "You mean you do this kind of thing _all the time?_"

"You get used to it, really, you do. The professor gets into all kinds of weird happenings whenever someone sends him a distress letter asking him to help solve a mystery."

"Oh, so is he like some kind of detective?"

"Eh, you could say that. He would never admit it, though. He's really modest."

"Sounds like a really nice guy," said Clive. "I can't wait to meet him."

* * *

Edgar gingerly opened his eyes, aware of throbbing pains hitting him from all sides, but most notably his left eye, his mouth and his stomach. The Family had not taken kindly to his discovery that Hershel Layton was not at all the considerate gentleman he appeared to be on the outside.

He felt something lightly tap the side of his head and wished that it would stop because it was making his searing headache worse. The sneering voice of Bostro floated down to him, and he realised that the offending object was probably a gun.

"Awake, are ya? Good, the boss wants ta talk to you."

"Oh, _goody_," he felt like saying. In the interests of keeping his sides from receiving another kick, in reality he said nothing.

He heard someone struggling from the other side of the large cellar as they were being brought in, and he thought: _You poor sod._

Knowing that he still had a gun trained on him, he slowly shifted position, flinching when several differing aches all screamed to announce their presence at the same time. He sat up, just about managing to see his fellow captive. The unfortunate man was currently under Layton's cold gaze.

Apparently Layton had just entered the room as well; he motioned for one of the thugs to remove the gag from the prisoner, who immediately erupted with rage.

"What kind of operation are you running here, Layton?"

"I should think you'd know very well, Avogadro..."

"This is a disgrace! You're an affront to all of humanity!" So angry was Avogadro that flecks of spit flew from his mouth as he yelled. Edgar noticed that he was wearing a strange coronet on his head. It looked nothing like a Com Link, though.

Layton didn't acknowledge the outburst, retaining the calm he was so well-known for.

He continued, "...Since you _have_ been leaking very sensitive information to Max Cunningham..."

"What on earth are you blabbering about?" growled Avogadro. One of the thugs - Fisheye, Edgar thought - gained an unsettling glint in his eyes, rather like a lion staring at its prey.

"...And now Luke Triton knows the precise time and date of the launch," said Layton.

"You're barking mad! I don't know any Luke Triton."

Layton's face twitched, a tiny curve of a smile appearing. "Don't lie, Avogadro. It makes you look rather the fool."

"I'm not lying!"

Fisheye's glint turned malicious, while Layton's half-smile became a full-blown smirk.

"Tsk, tsk. Allow me to put you out of your misery. That machine on your head is a cognitive capture device. That is to say, it captures memories. Your memories have been analysed, and we have determined that you did, in fact, meet Max two weeks ago, inside the Old Red Lion pub in Angel. Furthermore, you have been frequently supplying him with information concerning the Infinity Project, such that Luke now knows the launch date. Alas, that is a point in time that we cannot change, but it matters not. I have been working on a project of my own, one that will ensure our absolute success."

It seemed Avogadro had given up all pretence, because he said, "You're so goddamned sure of yourself. And that's going to be your downfall. You can't possibly prepare for _everything_."

"Oh, this will work, without fail," said Layton, with a chuckle. "Indeed... the one thing we could not extract from your mind was the location of the rebels' base."

"Ha! Max wasn't stupid enough to tell me something like that."

"Of course not. And yet, knowing this, I still had you brought before me."

Avogadro's scornful look turned to one of confused surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I have all the information I require from you. There really was no need to question you in person."

"Other than to toy with me," Avogadro snarled.

"Yes," said Layton, "but there was also another reason for your presence." He glanced over at Edgar, who cringed.

"You... you monster!" said Avogadro, shock overcoming his anger for a moment as he too looked across the room and noticed Edgar's sorry state for the first time. "Chelmey was right about you!"

Edgar's thoughts tried to line themselves up so that they could come up with something resembling coherency. Was Avogadro talking about Chelmey, of Scotland Yard? Was it the same Chelmey who had been the best man on the Met police force - until he had mysteriously vanished without a trace?

"It's funny you should mention Chelmey," said Layton, looking bored. "He reacted in much the same way as you."

"What have you done to him?"

"He has proven to be a useful test subject for my experiments. However, you are here to serve as a demonstration. This is what happens to those who betray me."

Layton's eyes turned so icy that winds blowing through Antarctica could not have chilled a person more to the bone.

"Kill him."

A stream of bullets struck Avogadro in the chest. Edgar shut his eyes, unable to watch, though he did hear the body slump to the floor.

"Dispose of the rubbish, would you?" said Layton, and there were some shuffling noises. The thugs were getting rid of the poor man's body.

"As for you... I hope I've made clear what will happen to you if you mention this to anyone."

When Edgar opened his eyes, it was to see Layton's cold face staring down at him. "C-c-crystal," he said weakly.

"Now... there _is_ something I'd like you to do for me."

"M-m-me?"

"Yes. I need you to perform a simple task. Once you've recovered from your wounds, of course."

Edgar's thoughts now argued amongst themselves. One thought said that this task could potentially be a good thing, because it meant that Layton wasn't going to kill him right away. Another thought wondered: just what exactly did Layton want him to do? The third thought wanted the other two thoughts to shut up so that they could all go to sleep.

"B-b-but... I-I..."

"Cease your whimpering, it's rather tiresome. A child of ten could carry this out. Now: you work at Gressenheller University, correct?"

"Yes..." said Edgar tiredly, wishing that Layton would get to the point so he could leave this dreadful place.

"You need to watch out for a boy named Clive. My men are on the lookout for him, but I would also like you to keep an eye out as well. All you need to do is contact me if and when he arrives."

"That's... it?"

"Yes, that is all. I will send you a detailed description and a photo of him when you've recovered."

Now Edgar was truly torn. While he feared greatly for his own life, he didn't want to send a poor child into Layton's clutches. Just what did this maniac have planned?

"Why...?" he had to ask. "What... are you going to do to him?"

Layton sighed in irritation. "A _conscience_. Such a cumbersome quality to have in a subordinate."

He snapped his fingers. The four guns that suddenly clicked in Edgar's direction caused all the thoughts in his brain to sit up straight and pay attention to the very real threat to his life.

"N-no! W-w-wait, please! I-I'll do anything!"

There was a terrible moment when Layton's eyes ran over him, like a jeweller appraising a ring. How much is it worth? Is it worth keeping?

Edgar could feel sweat dripping off his nose as the seconds ticked by.

"Very well," said Layton finally. He waved a careless hand, signalling the Family thugs to withdraw their guns. "You will carry out this task, or you will die. It really is that simple."

"I'll... do what you say..." Edgar croaked.

"Good. My men will be watching you _very_ closely."

Edgar didn't even have the strength to shudder.

* * *

Clive and Flora walked towards Piccadilly Circus, having learned that they would have to own a Communications Link Device in order to board a bus. After discovering that Com Links weren't very expensive, they found that they had enough money between them to buy one each, and so they made their way along the West End streets towards the nearest vendor, a newsagents just off one of the main roads.

"Hey, look at these!" said Flora.

They had come to a line of scooters on the pavement, stacked against some kind of metallic block, and all coloured black. They were the floating scooters that Flora had seen earlier, and the odd thing about these scooters was that they didn't have any wheels. Their base was completely flat. They also had a roof over them, so they sort of looked like a one-seated car without doors, though a couple of them had room for one passenger behind the driver's seat.

There was a sign next to them, with instructions. Clive read aloud:

" _'Renting hover-bikes_

_Instructions for use: _

_1) Push green button on docking station._

_2) Push yellow button on Com Link Device. This will synchronise the hover-bike with your Device…'_ Hmm..."

"Oh, wow! Solar-powered hover-bikes! Let's ride one of these to the university! Look, it says the first half an hour is free."

Clive was more cautious. "Do you think we'll be allowed to ride one?"

"I don't see why not. I mean, there's no traffic in central London any more, is there? Cars and vans and things all land upstairs now."

She paused for a minute, reading the fine print. "Hmm, it's like riding a bicycle or a mini-scooter, you don't need a licence, but... let's see... we're… not allowed to ride without a helmet. We can get helmets from the same shop, apparently. Come on, come on, let's ride one!"

He chuckled. "You just want to ride it because it can fly, don't you? Okay, Miss Optimism, let's give it a go."

They continued down the road, making a right turn into the next side street, and then entered the small shop, where they found Com Links of all different sizes hanging on display next to the counter. Some Devices were made to fit around the ear, others still were designed as bracelets. It was like looking for some jewellery, and after some browsing, and with some help from the shopkeeper, Flora chose one that she could wear around right her neck, while Clive opted for one that fit comfortably around his wrist. Next were a set of helmets, which, with their golden goggles, looked more suited for the pilot of a large aircraft.

Flora pulled the goggles over her eyes. "Hey, how do I look?"

"Like something out of Doctor Who," said Clive.

"_Ha_-_ha_," said Flora.

After making their purchases, putting on their gear, and leaving the store, Flora was overjoyed that she still had quite a bit of money left. The more cynical Clive wondered whether their helmets were just cheap knock-offs intended to rip off unsuspecting tourists.

"You're terrible!"

"I'm just being realistic."

Flora suspected he was grumpy because he hadn't wanted to take off his green cap.

As they walked back towards the hover-bikes, they turned the corner to the left into the main road, walking right into a rather unpleasant looking man in a green suit. He had a malicious look in his eyes, one that made Flora think of a spider about to devour a fly.

" 'Ello," he said, leering at Clive. "Fancy meeting you here!"

"Ah! You're -!" Clive rapidly yelled to Flora as he began to run. "Flora! Run!"

Flora didn't quite react fast enough. As the man pulled on her arm, she kicked him in the kneecap - her boots were deceptively sturdy - forcing some choice swearwords from her would-be captor, and made to run. However, a second man had joined the fray, and he swung an arm around her chest, dragging her backwards, away from the main road and back into the side street.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll come along quietly, like," he said.

She felt something firm and cold pressed against her back. She froze, eyes widened.

"That's it, no sudden movements."

"Hey, Lockjaw. Bring her over this way."

There was a distant, small-sounding 'click', and her pulse thumped in her head, a cold sweat coming over her. The first man was advancing with a shiny knife in one hand, and a lazy grin sweeping across his features.

Strangely - and somewhat happily - Lockjaw's reaction was one of surprise. Although he kept his hold on her, he tensed in hesitation. "Eh? What're ya doing? The boss wants 'em alive. We'll get a right bollocking if anything happens to them."

"You _idiot_. Why do you always have to open your big mouth? In any case... The boss is after the boy. He didn't say anything about this girl. She owes me big," he licked his lips, "and I always collect my debts."

Lockjaw made a sigh of disapproval. "We can use her as bait. The kid might come back for her, I don't think-"

He was interrupted mid-sentence and the next few moments were a whizzing blur of events. There was a SMACK! noise; the unnamed man said, "Whumf!" and the knife clattered to the ground; at the same time Lockjaw was distracted and Flora pulled free; she lost her balance, her right leg twisting as she tumbled to the ground; another SMACK! noise and Lockjaw grunted, dropping his gun.

She used her arms to prop herself in a seated position, and looked up to see Lockjaw unconscious on the ground, the horrible knife-man scrambling to his feet with a snarl, and Clive ten metres away. The boy leaned forward, teeth gritted, both hands gripped tightly on the steering bar of a hover-bike, and his brown hair flew wildly around his goggled helmet as he charged forwards, forcing the other man into the wall. Happily, this time the man fell unconscious.

Immediately afterwards Clive reversed in a sort of wonky 'S' direction, not quite having got the hang of the bike, but he managed to regain control and righted himself. He lowered the scooter so that it was nearly touching the ground, and extended a hand to her. "Care for a lift?"

"Thank you, Clive," she replied, taking his hand and sitting behind, inside the passenger seat.

"Oi!"

Both Clive and Flora turned their head round in the direction of this shout. A third man had appeared a little way down the main road, wearing a white suit, and with a slightly hunched back. Flora would have described him as a gorilla, but that would been insulting the animal species. Behind this ugly man, a group of several more men in suits and ties had gathered, a couple of whom had pulled out machine guns.

"Oh, bugger!" said Clive. "That Bisto guy, or whatever his name was... Hold on tight!"

She grabbed onto the back of Clive's seat as the hover-bike rose, and he steered it round in the other direction. He called out a mocking "Toodle-pip!" before shooting off.

"It's not gentlemanly to use profanities in the presence of a lady," she said, knowing exactly how the professor would have reacted to that sentence.

"Yeah, you're probably right, but you're gonna have to forgive me. This _is_ an extreme situation," he said, sounding quite amused. Perhaps he'd never considered himself a gentleman before.

They turned another corner, and now they were almost back to where they had started, going straight past Leicester Square Tube station and heading north along Charing Cross Road. Flora chanced a look back, but none of the gangsters had followed them.

"At least the layout hasn't changed," said Clive, who seemed to know where he was going - but then the West End was one of those places that 'most every Londoner had visited at least once while living in London. He continued straight ahead into Tottenham Court Road, and Flora knew that the university wasn't far from here. They'd be safe once they reached the professor.

"I don't think they followed us," said Clive. "But you'll have to give me directions from here."

"Right," said Flora. "It's near Russell Square. I'm glad to see you're taking this adventure in stride."

"The violent gangsters with guns I could do without. But I can't say I've ever flown a hover-bike before. Have to admit, it makes a nice change from going to school."

Flora made a small sigh, pausing for a moment to let the silence clear her thoughts. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"There's no need to thank me," said Clive, sounding a bit surprised. "I'd never have left you alone with those uglies. We're in this together, right?"

"Yes, but... even so, we don't know each very well. I mean, we've only just met..."

"That's no reason to leave you in such obvious danger. Weren't you the one telling me how a gentleman should act?"

Flora smiled. Even though she knew he couldn't see it, she hoped it would come across in her tone. "Yes. I did. But thank you, all the same."

The warm smile definitely came across in his tone. "Eh... you're most welcome," he said.


	4. The Man in the Black Top Hat

**Chapter 4 - The Man in the Black Top Hat**

* * *

Flora walked through the metallic entrance to Gressenheller University, still a little transfixed by how different everything was. The grand building had not escaped mechanisation, and she had to admit she was a little unsettled by the unfamiliarity of a place she used to know very well.

She didn't know whether she would be let in given that this was ten years in the future and so there might no longer be any staff who recognised her, but Clive had been optimistic for a change and had pointed out that if they weren't let inside to see the professor they could always wait outside in the grounds for him to come out.

"Um..." said the receptionist, as she approached the desk. He looked like he'd been in some kind of accident. He had one eye bandaged and his face was full of plasters. Flora didn't recognise him, but his name tag said 'Edgar'.

He gave both her and Clive a startled look, as if surprised to see them, and then began to sweat, enough that he had to pull out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket.

_What's up with him?_ Flora wondered.

"Er, hello, can I help you?"

Flora and Clive exchanged glances. From Clive's expression, she could tell he thought the man was behaving a little strangely as well, but then he shrugged and muttered, "Maybe he's having a bad day."

She nodded, and turned back to face Edgar. "We're looking for Professor Layton, is he in today?"

Edgar stared at her with his good eye for a moment. "Um... and you would be?"

"His niece and nephew," said Clive, before Flora could respond.

The man's expression changed from excessively nervous to utterly horrified. "W-w-what? Wait, of course you are! S-s-silly me..."

"Er, right..." said Clive, who obviously hadn't expected his bluff to work so well.

"So can we see him?" Flora said, hoping to cover for Clive's momentary inability to speak.

"Y-y-yes, yes, of-of course! He d-doesn't teach here any more, b-but I'll s-see if I can get s-someone to t-take you to where he is."

"Oh, that's most kind!" said Flora.

"T-take a s-seat..." said Edgar, and he disappeared through a door into the back office behind reception.

"Phew," said Clive, sitting down in the seating area and taking off his golden helmet. "I can't believe that actually worked. He didn't even ask for any ID."

"He did seem a bit troubled by something," said Flora. "Anyway, it's not like we're lying too much - I do know the professor. He'll definitely recognise me."

"That's good to hear. I really want to get back to my own time." Clive took off the Com Link from his wrist, fiddling with the buttons on it. "Though, these things _are_ kinda neat," he said.

"Careful, you might break it," said Flora.

"Wait, I think I'm on to something here," said Clive, almost stubborn in his persistence.

Suddenly, a beam of light shot from the Com Link, and a 3D video appeared, showing a flock of Scarlet Macaws taking off in the wild.

"Wow, that's amazing!" said Flora. "It's like watching TV in 3D."

"I wonder how many channels it has?" said Clive, more interested in the machine than in its effects. With the way he was fidgeting with the device, he reminded her of Bruno.

"A good friend of mine would love to take it apart," she said. "He was brilliant at building robots."

"You should bring yourn back as a souvenir, then."

"Well... yeah, I guess..." she said, trailing off thoughtfully.

Before Layton had visited St Mystere and subsequently adopted her, an old caretaker named Bruno had created a village of robots at her father's request, so that she wouldn't be lonely after her mother had passed away. The robots were so life-like that it was impossible for an outsider to tell the difference, and helped to keep the illusion of life going in the otherwise empty village.

Bruno had also built a robot version of her mother, but even with an identical appearance, Flora could tell that she wasn't truly her mother. Lady Dahlia had had a completely different personality programmed, such that Flora ended up hating the woman for resembling her mother; and she would always hide herself away from Dahlia, only occasionally venturing out into the village of robots.

"Um... did I say something wrong?" said Clive, peering at her with wide, worried eyes.

"Oh, no! Not at all. Sorry, I zoned out there. It's just... well, the robots he built were so realistic you couldn't tell they weren't human. I always used to feel so sorry for them. But he was a good man - the inventor, I mean. He was always looking out for me. I haven't seen him for a while... I still write letters to him, of course, but I was just wondering how he was doing right now."

"All the more reason to bring him something back," said Clive. "I want to bring my one back. My dad'd love it, he loves gadgety things too. He lets me look at his plans all the time. He builds robots for construction works."

His eyes were shining with such pride that Flora really didn't want to say anything that would shatter that faith, especially since earlier she'd been the more optimistic out of the two. Still, the space-time continuum probably took precedence.

"But won't it cause problems if we bring back something from the future which doesn't belong?"

"Oh, you're right there. And I bet there isn't a way to power them back home anyway. Probably for the best," he said, though he did look as though he was going to use the Com Link as much as possible before going back.

"Excuse me?" said a man. Flora looked up, while Clive hurried to turn off the Com Link. It was a police officer, accompanied by two colleagues. "You're Mr Layton's relatives, are you?"

"Yes, that'd be us," said Flora, and Clive muttered, "Um."

"Ah, good. If you'd both like to follow me, please, we'll escort you to him."

The policemen accompanied them outside the university, and ushered them inside a white, yellow and blue blimp-copter-car.

"Looks like we get to fly over London after all," said Clive, putting on his seatbelt and bouncing up and down on his seat, before testing the softness by pushing down on the seat with one hand. "I think I'm getting used to this adventuring malarkey. Once you get past the shock, it's actually quite exciting. I can't wait to see what other gizmos they've got here."

"I'm glad you think so," said Flora, smiling at the boy. He was already eyeing the buttons next to the window with great interest.

_It never gets old, that's for sure... but this time it's different. Because I'm not alone for this adventure, _she thought.

* * *

The 274 Airbus landed, letting Layton and Luke off in Russell Square. Now that they were in central London, Layton was free to investigate the strange buildings and their apparatuses. His eyes scanned the area as they walked, taking in every detail, every little thing that had changed - the boilers, the pipes, the constant movement of the wheels - while his brain absorbed and analysed the information, trying to put pieces of the puzzle together in order to come to a conclusion.

Seeming to have a sixth sense about when to keep quiet, Luke held a respectful silence, but as they neared the university, he eventually asked, "Professor, do you really think we're in the future?"

Luke always asked a question along those lines, as if to validate his own thoughts and theories, but it was a fair question. Layton was not the kind of person to take things at face value.

_Question everything._

_Dig deep. Dig and dig until you find the answer. _

_The only thing you can rely on is cold, hard fact. _

Those were the things his mentor had taught him.

And indeed, for every mystery that Layton had solved, there had always been a chink in the armour, a mistake in an otherwise flawless plan; some kind of clue that he could use to dispel the illusion and uncover the truth.

But this time... there didn't seem to be anything to disprove what they'd seen. Not yet, anyway.

In this supposed future, there was no hidden truth. He'd uncovered and dug deep, and so far he could find no tricks, no robot disguises, no hallucinogenic gas. What they saw was what they saw. And what they saw was a heck of a lot of machinery, far too advanced to have covered all of London in a short span of time, but definitely geared towards doing something larger than it would first seem.

What was it?

That was what was really bugging him. He wanted to get to the heart of it. He wanted to see what the grand machine of London was truly for. Perhaps, therein lay the truth about the time travel.

At great length he said, "Until we see something that suggests otherwise, I'd have to say yes."

Luke did a double-take, obviously expecting the standard _it's too soon to tell, but something tells me there's more than meets the eye_ answer.

"It's the technology," Layton said, gesturing to a traffic light, which had one of the pipes adjoined to it, along with a large valve. "It's quite unlike anything I've ever seen. Assuming we are still in our own present time, you would be hard pressed to find a place in the United Kingdom where no one would notice hi-tech activity on such a grand scale."

"That's right," said Luke. "A new energy source would have been all over the news, wouldn't it?"

"Unless, of course, the entire city was hidden underground."

He looked up at the sky. The same old sky. That hadn't changed, at least. Fluffy clouds, here and there, floating dreamily along.

Why?

Why had he gone back to that fateful day? He had not been present _during_ the explosion; he had only arrived on the scene much later. Could he have really travelled back through time and witnessed _that_ specific moment?

If it was real... The second letter had mentioned some disruption to the time machine, but out of all the places in the world, out of all the times in history... why that precise moment? It couldn't be coincidence.

"But somehow... I don't think so."

"Golly, Professor! Does this mean I get to be excited about something that's real for a change?"

Layton came out of his reverie and chuckled. His assessment of the situation had less to do with logic and more to do with Claire. But Luke didn't need to know that.

"Perhaps," he said. "There are still a few unanswered questions. Let's go see if we can find myself."

* * *

Layton and Luke entered the university, where the receptionist immediately put a hand over his mouth. "Oh my goodness - it's - you're - him! Oh... g-good, I-I s-see your nephew is in good health, sir. I'll just c-c-call for the dean and get a cup of tea for you right away, sir."

_Nephew?_ mouthed Luke.

"Let's just play along for now," Layton muttered.

After dialling a few numbers on a handset, the receptionist looked up at Layton, still stuttering nervously.

"Oh, er... is y-your niece okay? She's not with you..."

_That's... quite the extreme reaction you have towards me..._ thought Layton. "She's, er, fine. If you'll excuse us for a moment, my nephew and I need to talk."

Layton pulled Luke over to one side. "Luke, I just thought of something. It might not be a good idea for the dean to see you, he might recognise you, and if I am to uncover the real truth behind this city..."

"Aha! _There's_ that famous intuition. Understood. I'll, um, go to the library."

"Right, I'll meet you there."

Just as Luke darted down towards the stairs to the first floor, Dean Delmona came plodding along from the opposite direction.

"Heavens above! It _is_ you!"

A short man with spectacles and a moustache, Delmona looked pretty much like his present day counterpart, except that apparently he had finally decided to accept his age, since he was no longer wearing his tiny toupee to mask his balding hairline. He led Layton up to his office, where there were two cups of steaming tea on the desk.

Delmona gestured for Layton to take a seat, but remained standing. Usually the dean was very open and chatty, sometimes undesirably so, but for some reason he appeared rather tongue-tied.

"You're... er... well, I hope? Seated comfortably? Air too hot? Too cold? I can turn the thermostat up or down if you like - "

"I'm fine, sir," said Layton, taking a sip of tea. After a beat, he sensed that, odd though it was, Delmona was waiting for _his_ permission to sit down. "Please, sit down, sir."

Delmona did so, leaning back in his chair behind his mahogany desk. "So... What a surprise to see you here, my boy! I trust you had a pleasant journey here?"

"Yes, thank you," said Layton. "The bus offered some spectacular views of London."

"Bussed it, eh? Well, I suppose you did invent the things."

_Hmm..._ So his future self had also created the new buses. Maybe that was why he travelled for free? That made a little more sense... but only a little. He took another sip of tea, if only because he found the action calming.

"So... to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" said Delmona. "Didn't think you'd have the time of day, what with you being Prime Minister and all."

Layton mentally gave himself several rounds of applause for having the composure to _not_ snort in his tea.

"...Forgive me, did you just call me 'Prime Minister'?"

"Er, yes."

"That's what I thought," Layton said, suddenly feeling weak.

It...

Just...

How?

Why?

When?

Him?

Prime Minister?

"Something the matter?"

"No, nothing," said Layton, desperately trying to gather the bits of his brain that had gone in a million directions at once.

"Don't tell me you forgot!"

"I... er... no. This is... just a courtesy call. But, I must admit, it feels very odd being here again," said Layton, who, in the end, had decided that the truth was the best option here.

"Yes, I know what you mean. After all, seems like only yesterday you were teaching those bright young minds all about the civilisations of yesteryear. Now today you're teaching us all about the wonders of tomorrow! Steam-powered fusion! Who would have thought it!"

_Certainly not me_, Layton thought.

"I am surprised you're here, and without an armed escort, too? All very peculiar - not that I'm arguing with you, mind!"

"I won't be here long. In fact... I should probably leave now. Forgive me for cutting our brief meeting short..." Layton stood up, tipping his hat in apology. "May I let myself out?"

"Not at all! I completely understand! But you know, I could give you an extra sweet present. To the tune of five thousand pounds. As a way of securing our grant, if you know what I mean."

Once again, Layton felt himself having to keep a very tight grip on his emotions, turning an incredulous stare back on the man who in this time was his former boss. "You did _not_ just try to bribe me."

"No," said Delmona cheerfully, "I suppose I didn't."

Layton shut the door behind him. He could scarcely believe what had just happened, and what he had just discovered, but it certainly explained everyone's reactions towards him. He quickly found Luke in the library, sitting at a table deeply engrossed in a newspaper.

"There you are, Luke."

"Professor!" Luke was in one of his excited states. He showed him an article inside the newspaper, pointing eagerly at it, and he said in hushed tones: "Look, look! It says here that you're -!"

"- Prime Minister. Yes, I know. Which means we won't find my future self here."

"Eh? Oh, of course, he'll be in 10 Downing Street... or wherever it is the prime minister goes whenever he's ministering primey stuff. No wonder that bus conductor was so nice to you, eh?"

"Yes, quite," said Layton, folding the newspaper closed and looking at the front page. "Curious, the date on this newspaper is indeed ten years ahead of our present day."

They exited the main building, and there were now several police officers in the university grounds, which was slightly alarming. Had something happened?

But none of the officers seemed particularly frantic, in the way that they would be if, say, Don Paolo had made a robbery; they were simply standing around. None of the students seemed to be particularly startled, either. When Layton approached the two officers closest to them, they both said that they were simply on patrol, and not to worry because, "We've got everything under control, Prime Minister!"

_They must be here because of me_, he thought.

With Luke in tow, he walked towards the main road, coming to a stop just outside the grounds.

What to do now?

"Where do we go from here, Professor?"

"Good question. Though I'm not too keen on the idea of deceiving people, I could continue to pose as my future self. Perhaps we should try to find Inspector Chelmey, assuming he is still around."

"Good idea."

Suddenly Luke exchanged his pensive look for one of surprise, and he pointed upwards. "Ah, look! It's the parrot from before!"

The green bird was flittering just above a lamppost. Hadn't Luke tried to show it to him before? But that had been in London Zoo of the present day. How on earth had it managed to find its way here?

With neck arched up, Luke watched the bird with all the patience of a stalking cat, as if expecting something spectacular to happen. Then the Spectacular Something happened: the parrot exploded in a shower of dots, and then reappeared right next to Luke.

"Oh, my..." said Layton. A parrot with the ability to travel across space... and time, as well, it seemed. No wonder Luke had wanted him to see the creature.

Initially Luke started in surprise, but then he squawked something, and the bird responded. They spoke rapidly to each other - exactly what the conversation was about, Layton had no clue - and then the parrot said in English, "AWK. TOP HAT. NEED HELP, POLLY DOES."

"Help? With what?" said Layton.

A loud noise came from above, sounding something like helicopter rotors. A small, one-manned blimp was coming in to land, with wings jutting out at its centre, and with rotors attached to the wings. It had two mechanical legs underneath it, presumably to prop itself as it landed. It was a car, helicopter, plane and blimp all in one.

A male voice boomed over loudspeakers. "Hershel! So this is where you've ended up!"

The tiny airship landed on the pavement, and a man wearing a white suit, with a red flower on his chest, came out and approached them.

Layton didn't recognise him at all. Not many people referred to him by his first name. The man had a knowing smile, and his body language - the way he was so comfortable, and at ease in his presence - seemed to suggest that he was very familiar with him, in a way that went beyond the superficial "celebrity" status. There wasn't much point in pretending to be his future self here.

"Forgive me, but I don't believe we've met before."

"You haven't spoken to Luke, yet, then?" said the man. "The Luke of this time, I mean?"

Luke frowned, and Layton wondered what was wrong. It wasn't a thoughtful frown. The boy was unhappy about something.

_Distrust_, thought Layton. _Luke doesn't trust him._

"No," he said, finally, frowning himself in mild confusion. His own instincts were telling him to tread carefully, in any case. This man had known they were from the past just by looking at them, so just how much more did he know?

The man gave Luke a look of appraisal before returning his attention to Layton, and more alarm bells rang.

_Why is he so interested in Luke?_

"Do you have any idea what's going on, then?"

"Only that we have been transported to the future," said Layton, "and that the future Luke instructed us to look around the university."

"I see. And did he tell you why you were brought here?"

"I'm afraid his letter to us was rather vague in regards to that matter."

"Well then, perhaps I can explain a few things. My name is Dimitri Allen, and I am a leading expert in the field of time travel."

_Ah_, thought Layton. _That does indeed explain his interest in us._

"That parrot little Luke there is holding," said Dimitri. "It appears to be drawn to your temporal signature."

Luke and Layton exchanged glances. From the expression on Luke's face, he could tell he was thinking the same thing: _aren't the rings we're wearing supposed to mask temporal signatures?_

"That means something to you, does it?"

"The parrot has been following us around, through space and time itself," said Layton. "Quite perplexing, really."

"If you come with me to our Time Machine Facility, we can try to figure out exactly why that is."

Curiosity vied with suspicion in Layton's mind. Should they go with this man and find out more? Or was it better to wait until they met with Luke?

The younger Luke made the decision for him.

"No," he said firmly.

"And why is that, if you don't mind me asking?" said Dimitri. Layton was wondering the same thing, but then Luke had been distrustful from the very beginning. There had to be a reason for it. It didn't make sense for the usually bright and bubbly Luke to be this suspicious of someone he'd never even met before.

"Because we've got to meet someone right now. Isn't that right, Professor?"

Layton nodded and kept an indifferent expression, understanding immediately: whatever the reason was for the lack of trust, Luke couldn't say it in front of Dimitri himself.

_I'll play along, Luke._ "Yes, that is correct. We should be heading to Scotland Yard now."

Dimitri made a tut-tut sound. "That's too bad," he said, sounding disappointed. He pushed something on his wrist. Suddenly, Luke and Layton found their path blocked by a group of menacing robots on either side. Though they were humanoid, they had scorpion-like tails, which made Layton immediately think of Descole's giant Detragan.

Layton growled, clenching his fists. "What's this all about?"

"I was really hoping you would come along quietly, and that I wouldn't have to resort to using force..."

"You can't do this!" said Luke. "The professor's - well he's the Prime Minister! The police'll have you arrested!"

Dimitri chuckled. "Will they, now?"

**"Infinity," **said the parrot suddenly.

Luke jumped at the otherworldly voice emanating from his hands, but no one was more surprised than Dimitri, who had visibly recoiled from the shock.

"_What?_"

The world blurred for a moment; and then Layton, Luke and the parrot were gone.

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #2 - ]**

Descole stood on the bank of the river Thames, looking out towards Tower Bridge. It was always a bit cooler here by the river than it was in the heart of the city. A moderate breeze caused his cape to flutter, and the tree branches above him gently swayed. The water was almost down to its lowest point. In London the Thames was tidal, and a full moon meant a very low tide at this time in the evening.

_Infinity_, he thought. That's how the scientists at the PDR Institute had done it. Infinity was, for their purposes, an infinite number of possibilities taking place within an infinite expanse of space. Infinity had allowed them to temporarily break down the laws of physics in order to bend the space-time of this universe into another possibility that suited them. No wonder Claire had died... or had she?

An astrophysicist constantly on the search for phenomena relating to the cosmos, Claire had been a great advocate for the "many universes" theory, and had hoped to use the results of the time machine experiment at the Institute to prove it. An infinity of universes, linked by an infinity of wormholes. With infinite universes came infinite potential... and infinite energy.

And apparently, she and the other two scientists had not only discovered this place of infinite possibilities, where all space-times existed at once, but they also had found a way to tap into its limitless power, if only for a millisecond. Descole knew that he, too, had to find a way of tapping into Infinity. His own time machine used a different method to the one of nine years ago, and as such, with current technology, it could only be used one way. If he was ever going to use it, he would have to make that one use count.

He heard someone approach him. He was almost certain he hadn't been followed, but if anyone had followed him, it would be _him_.

"Descole," said a quiet voice.

He looked up and sneered, turning around with a dramatic sweep of his cape. How typical of Layton to deduce right away that he was the culprit behind the current string of thefts from Dimitri's underground lab.

"You followed me all the way here? How foolish!"

"You are the one responsible for stealing Dimitri's research," said Layton, in that infuriatingly calm voice of his. "It seems you too are interested in time travel."

"Perhaps," said Descole. "To acquire that which has been denied to me many times before, I plan to recreate the conditions of the lab experiment nine years ago."

"Do you not realise the consequences of meddling with space-time?"

"Ha! I know exactly what I'm getting into. I'm not going to get killed like that fool woman, Claire."

Layton started, and then glared with a coldness that Descole had never seen from him before.

This was interesting, and Descole had to resist the urge to smile. Something about this woman seemed to push all the wrong buttons for Layton, and Descole wondered how far he could go.

"She was nothing," he said offhandedly. "An utter waste of human DNA."

"Descole..." Layton growled.

"Death was but a kindness, for in life she was destined to be a failure."

Suddenly, Layton drew a sword, and Descole laughed at the angry look in the other's eyes. "You _knew_ her, didn't you? Maybe even _loved_ her?"

It wasn't until Layton rushed forwards that Descole began to suspect that something really was amiss. The other man was being uncharacteristically reckless, a demonic fury taking over his actions as he charged, with eyes far wilder than that of any of the animals Descole had ever put under his control.

Descole drew his own sword and parried, not quite understanding the ferocity behind Layton's attack, reasoning that the gentleman had finally snapped. After years of facing that unflappable calm, he'd finally caught a glimpse of the man losing his cool. And to think - over a girl, of all things. How disappointing.

It never occurred to Descole that he would miscalculate just how personal this was to Layton.

That was his first mistake. It would ultimately lead to his last.

**[ - 2 - ]**

* * *

As the police blimp-car flew above the city, Flora looked out the window, able to get a better view of just how much London had changed. There were car-blimps, lorry-blimps, and, of course, the Airbuses. And then there were other ships that looked far more futuristic, as they were metallic and mechanical, with sharp dorsal fins and curved wings, such that it was as though she was looking at a sky full of both balloon automobiles and floating robotic fish.

She looked over at Clive, and saw that he had fallen into a sullen silence; his eyes were downcast and his shoulders were drooped. Something was clearly troubling him. She decided to go for the completely random approach.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Huh? What?" He blinked in annoyance, frowning a little at the interruption, but then he perked up as his eyes focused on her, and he gave her a smile. "Are you always this... cheery?"

"Just when I'm on an adventure," she said brightly.

"Ah." He pointed towards the window and to the sky outside. "I guess I can see why."

"What's eating you? Just now _you_ zoned out."

"Yeah... sorry," he said. "I'm just really worried about my mum 'n' dad, because of the fire at the Institute. What if they didn't get out in time?"

"I'm sure they're fine," said Flora, hoping to reassure him.

"Yeah, you're probably right..." he said, not quite looking convinced. "What about your parents? Aren't you in a hurry to get home too?"

"Oh, no..." she said, wondering how she could tell him without things becoming awkward. She decided to just come out with it. "My parents both passed away."

"Oh, gosh. I'm really sorry," said Clive, putting a hand to his mouth.

Flora shook her head. "It's okay! Really. To be honest... I suppose that's the real reason for being cheery all the time, so that I remember only the good things about them, and not the pain of losing them. But the professor looks after me now, he's like a father to me, so I'm not by myself."

"Ah, so that's why you're praising him all the time."

"You could say that," said Flora, smiling sheepishly. "Anyway, you shouldn't worry about your parents. If my friend Luke has a time machine, we can go back whenever we want. You could go back in time to before the fire and warn everybody."

Clive gasped. "I hadn't thought of that!" He beamed at her, now looking more certain. "Thanks, Flora, that makes me feel a lot better."

"Glad I could help."

"Oh, speaking of the professor... You said he was good at solving riddles, right?"

"The best. And I'm not just saying that, mind."

"Well, take a look at this." Clive pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "One of the robots dropped it when they were chasing me."

She looked at the paper. On it was written the following:

G . . A . .

F . . E . D .

G . . -1B . C .

A . -1B . F . .

G . . . .

"G, full stop, full stop," she read aloud. "A, full stop, full stop... Minus one B? What does it all mean?"

"I dunno. I thought it might be some kind of special code, so I picked it up."

"That kind of thing is right up the professor's alley. We'll ask him when we see him."

The driver flicked his head back briefly. "We're nearly there. You ever been to see Mr Layton in London before?"

"Er, no," said Flora. She hadn't, not in this London.

"Do you see that black and white airship ahead?"

Flora looked; directly ahead was one of the larger fish airships. It resembled a killer whale with both its black and white colouration and the way it sliced through the air. Sleek and aerodynamic, it screamed speed and power.

"Yes," she replied.

"That's Mr Layton's ship."

"Wow," said Clive, which was pretty much what Flora was thinking.

A compartment on the side of the huge ship opened, and the orca-ship swallowed the car-blimp. The tiny craft docked alongside other small blimps, and the police officers escorted Flora and Clive away from the landing area, through some corridors and up to the bridge of the ship, which had staff working at computer terminals with buttons and blinking lights.

Clive's mouth opened in awe; he looked like a child visiting Hamley's toy shop for the first time. Flora was impressed by the airship, too, but she was rather more impressed by the fact that Layton owned it.

A voice sounded from behind them. "Flora," it said.

The voice was one she instantly recognised, and she immediately turned around. There, right behind them on the viewing platform, stood the man in the black top hat: the future Professor Layton.


	5. The Time Machine Facility

**Notes:**

1) Cuthbert has a Scottish accent in the UK version of Lost Future.

2) Should probably clarify that evil!Layton here doesn't wear a monocle - that is to say, he looks exactly like his past counterpart. There's a good in-story reason for this.

3) I hope the story is making sense to everyone. There are, like, three different plotlines on the go at once. Clive and Flora; Layton and Luke; and the sequence of hidden memory flashbacks. It does all come together in the end.

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Time Machine Facility**

* * *

As soon as she saw him, Flora knew he was the future Layton. It wasn't because she had known beforehand that she had been going to meet him. It wasn't even because of his general appearance. Layton was exactly the same as ever - the man just looked young for his age.

It was because he was smiling warmly at her, but there was something in his eyes that was stand-offish, something in his stance that radiated distance.

_It __has__ been ten years_, she reminded herself. _Maybe he's become even more cautious over that time... if that's even possible._

It was for this reason that, instead of running up to him and giving him a hug (which was something she really wanted to do), she simply walked up to him and smiled back.

"Flora, my dear," he said. "You're from ten years in the past, correct?"

"Yes, Professor." All things considered, it _was_ good to see him. Here, at least, they would be safe from those horrible gangsters.

Future Layton shut his eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again. "How strange it is, to see you so young again."

With all the excitement of exploring a future London, making a new friend, _and_ running away from a group of mobsters, Flora had never even considered the possibility of a future _her_. She kept that thought and put it away to be called up again at a later date.

Future Layton turned his attention to Clive. "And what is your name, my boy?"

"Clive, sir. Flora's told me a lot about you, Mr Layton."

"I bet she has," said Future Layton, with a knowing smile.

"So this is your ship, Professor?" said Flora, leaning on the banister that surrounded the viewing platform.

"That's right. It is called _Baryonyx_."

"Ah, I see," said Flora. Some years ago the professor had discovered a fossil of a claw, which later turned out to be that of a Baryonyx, a fish-eating dinosaur. A picture of the creature was amongst many of the bits and bobs found in the professor's office.

Which reminded her...

"But how come you're not teaching at the university any more?"

"Oh, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that. Five years ago I became Prime Minister. This is my second term in office."

"W-what?" said Clive, not quite believing his ears. "You're joking."

"Oh, absolutely not," said Future Layton. "A true gentleman never jokes."

Clive turned to face Flora. "You never told me this!"

"I didn't know," Flora insisted.

"I'm surprised no one told you," said Future Layton. "Perhaps they assumed you already knew. As you might imagine, being head of government brings great responsibility. As such, certain precautions must be taken."

Future Layton pulled out a rectangular device from inside his pocket, something like a remote control, and pushed a button on it.

Immediately, Clive put a hand to his forehead, crying out. "My head! What's happening?" He crouched on the ground, apparently in some kind of pain.

"What's wrong with him?" said Flora, putting a hand to her mouth. She bent down and put an arm around Clive. He had a glazed look on his face, as though he wasn't quite _all there_.

"I'm afraid you've both fallen into my trap," said Future Layton pleasantly.

On the word _trap _Flora jerked her head up, and when she did, it was to see a terrifying smile on Future Layton's face. It was a tiny smile, but it was filled with a cruelty that she had never seen from him before, and she gasped.

"Such a shame, really," he said, apparently oblivious to Clive's discomfort. "There was no challenge in it. Still, I have what I need."

Flora shook her head, realising that she had been more spot on about his aloofness than she'd initially thought. This wasn't the professor...! Not by a long shot! "You... you're not the professor!"

His smile broadened. "My dear girl... Did you honestly believe that nothing would change in the last ten years? That I would not use my superior intellect to steer this country towards greatness? Everything I do, I do for the good of this country. I am saving the fools from themselves."

Flora stood up, clenching her fists, and growling in defiance. "Take me to my Professor Layton!"

Future Layton dropped his smile, replacing it with a chilly frown that somehow managed to be even more frightening. "Foolish girl." He pushed another button, and she immediately felt drowsy, and her head felt heavy, as though a piece of cold lead was pushing down hard on it.

He bent down so that his head was level to hers, and he was looking her directly in the eyes. "I should kill you, really," he said in soft, gentle tones. She could barely react, only able to lift her eyelids ever so slowly. "You're merely a liability. You always were. But then... how would I get Luke to also fall into my carefully constructed trap?"

The sleepy feeling intensified, such that Flora passed out, but not before she asked a tearful _why?_ in her head.

* * *

Meanwhile, the green parrot had teleported the younger Layton and Luke to another location entirely. Layton didn't know where they were, but wherever here was, it wasn't outside Gressenheller University. After a couple of minutes of disorientation, he was able to inspect his surroundings.

He was inside a small room, with metal worktops all around the edges. It seemed to be some kind of laboratory. Machines of different sizes grinded away on the worktops, powered by steam engines, and with lots of blipping noises and blinking lights, nuts and bolts, and moving gears. One of the machines on the far end was printing out a sheet of paper.

Luke was on the ground, out-cold. He seemed to have been badly affected by the trip through time this time. Layton bent down, gently shaking him in an attempt to rouse him, but there was no response. He frowned in slight concern, uttering a soft sigh.

He adjusted Luke's position so that he was comfortably lying down, and ruffled his hair a little.

_Poor boy..._

**"Infinity,"** said the parrot, again. He was on a workstation just above Luke, and Layton stood up, folding his arms. The bird had a weird light in his eyes, a piercing look, and was staring straight through Layton as if he could see deeply within his soul... It was an unsettling look, to say the least - but Layton was determined to get to the bottom of this, and he stared straight back.

"Why do you keep repeating that word?"

**"Because I have gone in the wrong direction."**

"What do you mean? Can you elaborate?"

The strange light left the parrot's eyes, and the parrot shook his head, ruffling his feathers. "AWK. NOT AGAIN."

He noticed Layton, then, and he whistled a short, happy melody. "AWK. NEED HELP, POLLY DOES."

"Is that why you sought us out at London Zoo?"

"YES, YES. TOP HAT HUMAN, AWK. VERY SMART, LAYTON IS." He sung another happy tune. "YOUR HELP, POLLY NEEDS. CONTROL, POLLY CAN'T," he said, shifting from leg to leg in annoyance. "KEEP MOVING, POLLY DOES. EVERYWHERE. EVERY TIME. CONTROL, POLLY CAN'T."

Layton tried hard to make sense of this. If the parrot was unable to control his own teleportation, then one had to assume that the teleportation was being triggered by something else instead. Or some_one_ else, remotely.

"Hmm..."

Was the bird was being used as a living time machine, taking them across time and space deliberately, to see events? Perhaps to deliver a message? But what?

"EXPLORE THIS PLACE, LAYTON SHOULD," said Polly. "MAYBE FIND SOMETHING, YOU WILL."

Layton smiled. "That, my friend, is an excellent idea."

He checked the printout to see if there was anything of use. It was a graph depicting temporal waves. Apparently, the device was recording temporal wavelengths from different timelines and comparing them. Interesting, but not particularly useful. However, there was one piece of information that was helpful: the current date. Apparently, they were still ten years in the future, but it was February instead of March. They'd been sent a month back.

He walked back to where Luke was lying on the ground, and bent down to ruffle his hair again. "I'll be right back," he whispered.

He opened the door, peering out into a long corridor with a few other doors leading out from it. This action turned out to be a mistake. A man was in the corridor to his left, and of course Layton's hat was instantly recognisable.

"Hershel? What the hell are you doing here?"

It was Dimitri!

He was wearing a white lab coat now, but he still had the red flower on his chest. Layton quickly shut the door behind him as the other man approached - he couldn't let Dimitri know the parrot was inside - and then he glowered at Dimitri, not about to give in without a fight. At least he could buy Luke and the parrot time to escape.

But Dimitri blinked in surprise in response to his glare, which in turn surprised Layton. There was no shrewd smile, just genuine astonishment, with some confusion mixed in there.

"What's wrong, Hershel? I haven't done something to upset you, have I?"

_Of course not, you only just threatened us all_, he thought sarcastically - but suddenly it occurred to him. It was a month earlier! Technically, Dimitri hadn't met them yet. And, judging by the now worried look on his face, this time Dimitri _had_ mistaken him for his future self.

He looked away. "No, no, it's fine," he said, hoping he hadn't lost the opportunity and given himself away.

Now Dimitri frowned. He folded his arms and tapped his foot impatiently, as though he didn't have the time nor the energy to deal with this right now.

"What on earth is wrong with you? I can't believe you've come all the way here without sending a message first! I know what's wrong. You're getting restless. But there really is nothing new to report. Was there something so urgent that you had to come down here and see me in person?"

"No, not really," said Layton, more or less telling the truth.

Dimitri placed a palm over his head, rubbing his temples before letting out a sigh.

"Look, I do know how you feel. We're so close now... If you're after reassurance, I can show something that may put your mind at ease."

Layton nodded. He had a strong, gut feeling that he was right at the centre of the puzzle, here. Maybe the key to figuring out the time skips was right here, if he could just find out what exactly _was_ going on here and how his future self was involved.

"Lead the way."

He followed Dimitri a short way down the corridor, to a small door with a key pad. Dimitri punched a code quickly into the pad, and the door hissed open.

The room behind the door was smaller than the lab, but it did have similar machinery churning away on a couple of tables. There was an electronic display of the United Kingdom on the wall at the back of the room, with what looked like some kind of network, similar to a train map - but somehow Layton had the feeling the criss-crossing lines weren't representing train routes.

Dimitri pointed to the map, tracing a line with his finger from the north of Scotland all the way down to southern England. "All the blue shows energy flowing from our underground steam fusion reactors, to be stored in our chemical energy plants. The energy we have collected will be more than sufficient to power our operation to tap into Infinity."

So it was a power grid. Presumably his prime ministerial self had approved of its installation throughout Britain, along with the mechanisation of London. But powering what? Just what was Infinity?

"Is there any reason why you haven't gone ahead with the operation already?"

"We've been through this before, Hershel. This is not something we can rush. Infinity is made of all space-times, not just our own. If we are the slightest bit off, even by the tiniest particle, we could end up causing another catastrophic event. We could trigger a perpetual time loop, or irrevocably alter the nature of physics within our universe, or we could destroy our universe entirely."

Another catastrophic event? What was the first one? Was that what the parrot had been trying to warn him about?

"But it _will_ be going ahead, I presume?"

"Of course! Worry not. Everything is going according to plan. The time and date is still set as scheduled. Precisely 19 days' time. Clive will arrive in London in 17 days, though we won't be able to ascertain exactly where in London until the day itself."

"Ah. Well. Can't win them all," Layton said, bluffing his way through the conversation like the best of them. Every time the scientist spoke, a brand new piece was added to this strange jigsaw, and he couldn't always find where to make the piece fit. Clive was arriving in 17 days? Why was that important? Who was Clive?

"Indeed," said Dimitri. "I know we'll be on a strict time limit to extract the information we need once he arrives, but I have every confidence we can achieve this. So don't worry, we'll begin the operation as scheduled. You go back to running the country like you normally do, Hershel. Let me take care of the background details."

That seemed like an ending to the 'tour', so Layton moved towards the door and said, "As you wish. I shall leave things in your capable hands."

"Good." The scientist opened the door, and they left the room. There was another scientist down the corridor.

"Oh," said Dimitri, "it's Cuthbert. Wonder what he wants."

Cuthbert was a short man, with a sagging face and head held down that seemed to suggest a lack of confidence; but any preconceptions that he was a quiet, shy person were totally destroyed when he called excitedly across the corridor in a loud Scottish accent.

"Ach! There you are, Dimitri! Bin looking all over for ya!" He zoomed across the corridor like a penguin on rocket-powered skis. "Don't you answer your Com Link, man? They need you in the energy analysis lab, something urgent's come up. There's an energy surge in the time-stream! A large wormhole's opening out in Piccadilly Circus!"

"Apologies, Hershel," Dimitri said, with a slight bow of the head. "Duty calls."

"Not at all," said Layton.

"Cuthbert, would you escort the Prime Minister to the guest lounge?"

Cuthbert nodded. "Would ya like to come with me, sir?"

Dimitri quickly left to tend to whatever urgent situation had come up. Layton glanced back towards the lab. He couldn't leave Luke there by himself. He thought fast.

"Dimitri was just about to show me this lab here, I don't suppose you would be kind enough to take me inside?"

"Of course, sir. I'm the head scientist of that lab, actually."

_Oh dear_, thought Layton. _How will he react when he sees Luke?_

* * *

_Ow_, thought Clive. _My head hurts..._

He had his eyes closed. He was comfortable, lying in some kind of bed... He could lie here for a long time. He could hear bleeps and a soft mechanical grinding; and he felt something attached to his head and arms, and eventually curiosity won out. He opened his eyes.

He was indeed covered with tubes attached to a machine next to him, his shirt having been undone so that the tubes could be connected to his arms, almost as if he was in an intensive care unit. Had he been in an accident? He certainly didn't _feel_ like he was in any pain, apart from his head. He didn't even remember falling asleep, nor indeed, how he even got here.

He tried to sit up, pulling all the wires up with him, and a man next to him gently put a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from standing up. The man had tired eyes, with a coldness behind them that made Clive shudder.

"W-who are you?" he asked meekly.

The man's eyes flashed with annoyance, and then he answered. "Doctor Dimitri Allen."

"What do you want with me?"

Dimitri cocked his head, smirking ever so slightly. "Why, didn't the Prime Minister tell you? You are a threat to national security. You are to be detained until such time that we can determine you are no longer a threat to society at large."

"M-me?" said Clive, still trembling. "But I'm just a child. You must have the wrong person!"

"Oh, no, no, no," said Dimitri, chuckling harshly. "You are definitely the one. You are the key to understanding everything."

"No, no, you're wrong! I haven't done anything, I swear!"

"It's not what you've done. It's what you're going to do. Or, what you would have done, had you not been sent forward 20 years."

"What do you mean?" said Clive, completely and utterly confused.

"I've studied your timeline extensively. If we let you return to your own time, then ten years will pass, after which you will destroy London. Willingly, I should add."

If the words _Clive_ _destroys London in ten years time_ were like a vicious mugger landing a surprise first punch to the face, then that _willingly_ was the final stab in the chest. "W-what?"

"The damage was quite extensive. Over two hundred thousand homes lost... The third Great Fire of London, they called it."

Clive found himself restricted by the wires as he attempted to stand up, so he was forced to clench his fists instead. "You're absolutely barmy! I'd never do a thing like that!"

Dimitri's face hardened. There was no sympathy to be found there. "Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant. And it appears you're far too disobedient for your own good. I'll have to fix that."

He pulled out a tiny device from his pocket and pushed a button on it, and a sharp pain hit Clive in the right temple. He cried out in agony. It felt like someone had drilled a hole in his skull, and was stabbing the inside of his brain.

"What have... you... done...?"

"Only what was necessary. I believe you were the one who said that the only thing a bully responds to is force, after all."

_What...?_

That was Clive's last thought before consciousness faded.

* * *

When Cuthbert and Layton entered the laboratory, Luke was awake, though he sat up with his back against one of the worktops.

"A boy? Now how on earth did you get inside here?"

Fortunately Layton was saved from having to come up with an excuse because Cuthbert answered his own question. "Ah, it's that bloody parrot again. No wonder. I expect you'll be feeling quite rotten too, eh, lad?"

"How are you feeling, Luke?" said Layton.

"Like I've been knocked over by a bulldozer and then stuffed inside a washing machine."

"That'll be the side-effects of travelling with birdie there. He's a bit of an unstable way to travel. I've got just the thing, though, a little something I've been working on." Cuthbert pulled a drawer open and took out a small ring.

The parrot was still just above Luke, sitting next to one of the machines, making squawking noises. He opened his wings and hissed when Cuthbert tried to put the ring around him.

"He doesn't trust you," Luke said groggily from the ground. "He thinks it's an animal control device."

"Animal control? Perish the thought. I'm a quantum physicist. See, it's only a temporal gyroscope. It'll stabilise him, keep him from disappearing willy-nilly."

Luke translated for Polly, and he stood up straight, responding in English.

"AWK. WANT TO STAY STILL, POLLY DOES. BUT POLLY WILL BITE YOUR FINGERS OFF IF YOU ARE LYING."

"Fair enough," said Cuthbert.

There was a satellite delay on Cuthbert's part. He clipped the ring around Polly's left leg, and said, "There ya go, little beastie. Now you won't be hopping all about the place." Then he blinked, and looked down at Luke.

"Wait a minute! You're the lad who speaks to animals, aren't you?" Cuthbert whirled round to face Layton, with an accusatory look in his eyes. "I see! You're both from the past."

Layton nodded. "Yes. I apologise for the deception. In order to minimise further disruption to this time, we would very much like to return to our own time." Actually, what Layton very much wanted was to see the working time machine.

"I'm afraid I cannae allow that. I'll have to inform -" He stopped short, his face creased up in thought, and suddenly, as if a button had been pushed, his expression changed to a much more cheerful, almost ingratiating one. As if continuing the previous sentence, he said "- but who am I to argue with the Prime Minister?"

Layton frowned. Peculiar didn't even begin to describe this, but it was the latest in a long line of odd behaviours people seemed to have whenever he spoke to them. The only person in this future who hadn't acted like he was some kind of super-man was Dimitri.

And what was with the Descole-like robots? Other than that and the animal control devices, there was nothing to suggest that his old foe was still around. Secretive though Descole was, he was also a bit of a thespian. He loved being dramatic. If he was working somewhere behind the scenes, Layton was sure he would have seen signs of it.

So had his future self somehow acquired Descole's old technology? To what end?

Suddenly, a light-bulb went on in Layton's head, accompanied by the sound of a microwave DING!

_Oh, no..._ he thought. _It can't be..._

"I'm not Prime Minister yet," he said out loud.

"Of course you are! The previous PM resigned five years ago, don't you remember?"

"What?" said Luke, who now stood up, while stroking Polly on his head. "We just _said_ we were from the past. None of that stuff has happened yet."

"Are you, now?" said Cuthbert, putting a hand on his chin in confusion. "I suppose it doesn't matter much. Wait here. I'll call the folks at the time machine facility and let them know we're coming."

"Can't we just ask Polly to take us there?" said Luke.

"Nice idea, laddie, but now that I stabilised his magnetic field, he can only travel back to a specific day 20 years ago."

_And I wonder what happened on that specific day_, thought Layton darkly. The more time he was spending here, the more he was convinced that a time machine did exist and they were actually in the future. Slowly but surely, his mind was beginning to form a picture of what was truly happening here.

Cuthbert walked over to the other side of the lab, pushing a button on both his Com Link bracelet and on an intercom on the wall by the door.

"What's going on?" whispered Luke. "It's like he completely forgot we're from the past! And then he said it doesn't matter?"

"Yes, his behaviour is rather puzzling," said Layton.

"And what's Dimitri got to do with all this? The way he's going around with those robots you'd think he was running the country, not you!"

"Indeed..." said Layton.

**"Infinity,"** said Polly, suddenly.

The world blurred once more...

* * *

...and now Layton and Luke were standing in the middle of a giant expanse of white. No air flowed, no noise sounded. It was neither hot nor cold. A complete vacuum, a grand field full of nothing... except white.

Polly was not with them.

"Professor..." said Luke, his voice shaking. "W-what is this place?"

"I... honestly don't know," said Layton quietly. He took an experimental step forwards. He could _feel_ the ground beneath his feet, but there was no ground that he could _see_. Maybe his eyes were just playing tricks on him? An invisible floor?

At least Luke wasn't invisible. He placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, giving him a _don't worry, we'll figure this out _look.

After a few moments of thought, he said, "Luke, may I borrow a pen?"

Luke nodded, reaching into his satchel and handing him a gold coloured fountain pen. Layton took it, and then, opening his hand, he just let go.

The pen didn't fall. It remained in place, exactly where he had left it. You could say it was floating, except that _floating_ implied that the pen was using some kind of force to keep itself afloat. It was probably more accurate to say that it had frozen in mid-air.

He reached out to grab it, and to his surprise, he found he was able to twist the pen round and move it quite freely. But every time it left his hand, it stayed exactly where it was in the air.

_Hmm_, he thought.

He next asked Luke for a bottle of water. He opened the bottle, held it at arm's length, and tipped it over. The water did fall, but only up to a certain point, where it too halted in mid-air. It was as if someone had paused a video of water being poured; you could see some of the individual drops of water, just hanging.

When he took his hand away from the bottle, the bottle stayed in mid-air in the same way that the pen had. The water began to move, very slowly spilling out of the bottle.

The final experiment was with a paper aeroplane. Layton chucked it as far as he could. This time the paper aeroplane flew... and kept going, and going, and going, until it was a tiny speck. Layton felt something brush against his neck, and when he looked he saw the paper airplane again - except now it was flying diagonally downwards in the _opposite direction_.

And it kept on flying. Diagonally downwards, until it was nothing but a little dot again.

Meanwhile, the water had yet to reach the "ground", because it had suddenly made a soft U-turn, a mini-stream of water flowing over nothing but air. From their perspective, it had gone from falling down to falling up; the upside-down bottle now looked like it had a curved hook coming out of it.

"Strange," said Luke simply, a weird sense of calm appearing to have come over him.

Yes.

Strange.

The laws of physics had taken one look at this place and decided: _Nope, not going to function here_.

_The important thing_, thought Layton, _the important thing is not to panic. Yes._

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #6 - ]**

Becoming involved in organised crime hadn't been an easy decision to make, but Dimitri had had no choice. In order to secure the money he needed to fund his underground research, he'd had to break a few laws here and there. He didn't really care much for the law these days, anyway. A law was not necessarily _right_, it was just a set of rules people had to follow. But where had the law been when Claire died? Where was the justice? There had been none. Dimitri felt no obligation to uphold any kind of legal system which had allowed Bill Hawks to get into power.

Given that his own moral code was just slightly off-kilter, he wasn't surprised that Layton had refused to help him when asked two weeks ago. Hershel was straight as an arrow, of course. Would never harm a fly. That refusal had pissed Dimitri right off. Layton _always_ had to be the perfect gentleman, didn't he? That's why Claire had chosen Layton instead...

So when Professor Layton came through the back door of the Chinatown restaurant that doubled as his base, Dimitri Allen was surprised. Gobsmacked, in fact.

The bouncer's response was to pull out a machine gun, but Layton made no outward reaction, other than to frown ever so slightly, as if inconvenienced by a minor nuisance. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I have a proposition for your boss."

"It's fine," said Dimitri, "let him through."

The Family thug hesitated, giving Layton a suspicious look. "But... he's Professor Layton," he growled.

"I'm aware of that, thank you," said Dimitri curtly. Layton had gained a reputation within London's criminal underworld for putting an end to many illegal activities, and right now that was going against him. Still, Dimitri wanted to see why he had come back. What had changed his mind?

"Let him through."

He looked at Layton directly as he approached the table. "I take it you've reconsidered my offer?"

Layton nodded, and pulled out some paperwork, placing it on the table in front of him. Dimitri flicked through the pages. Among them were the time machine schematics that Descole had stolen from his lab, along with some plans for a device that he didn't recognise.

"What's this? One of Descole's inventions?"

"Yes." Layton sat down opposite him. "Do you think you can modify it to suit our needs?"

Dimitri frowned, looking closely at the papers once more. These plans... They were for something that he never thought Layton would ever approve of in a million timelines, let alone this one. But there was something about Layton that had changed; something must have happened in the past two weeks. He wondered whether Layton's encounter with Descole had unsettled him somewhat.

"If you want me to do what I _think_ you want me to do... That should be possible, yes..." he said slowly. "But... Hershel, are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? This is... rather unlike you..."

"I want revenge," said Layton simply.

**[ - 6 - ]**

* * *

Still standing on top of nothing in a white world that seemed to be made entirely of nothing, Layton reached out and grabbed the paper airplane out of the air. By now it had come and gone five times, each time from different directions, and had shown no signs of losing momentum. He unfolded it, placing the piece of paper in his pocket.

Was this place what happened when the universe was destroyed?

Or maybe it wasn't real at all. A reality within a dream, or a dream within a reality...

"I wonder... if it's possible to exist and yet not exist at the same time?"

"But we must exist," said Luke, who took his pen back and put it inside his bag. Understandably, he left the bottle and water where they were. "I can see you, and you can see me. We're both here. Even if it doesn't make sense."

"Ah, but how do we _prove_ we're seeing each other? That could be nothing but a false construct of our minds. We think we're here, but in truth, we're somewhere else entirely."

Luke made a thoughtful pose, putting a hand on his chin as if solving a puzzle.

"Well..." he said slowly, after a long pause. "Even if this is a dream, it doesn't _feel_ any less real than the real world. Why should our reality dictate what's real or not? Maybe the world we live in is the dream, and this is the reality."

Luke had earned an innumerate amount of picarats with that answer, and Layton smiled. "That's... a very good response, Luke. What do you propose we do about it?"

"Ask the parrot," said Luke, pointing at Polly.

The bird was spinning round like a quickly bowled ball in mid-air, and hecame to a stop in front of Luke and Layton. His eyes had become completely hollow. The glowing black of his eye sockets contrasted nicely with the whiteness of the world.

**"Infinity," **he said. Before their eyes, he grew slimmer, losing his hind legs and gaining a long tail. He was now a snake, with feathers in the same colours as Polly.

"What's going on?" said Luke. "Maybe this _is_ a dream..."

**"Infinity,"** the serpent said, now twisting itself into a sideways figure of eight: the symbol for infinity.

"The Ouroboros..." said Layton. "A snake eating its own tail. It represents the cyclical nature of the universe..."

**"The dragon shows faith. The tiger shows power. The griffin shows courage. The snake shows the hour."**

"Right," said Luke, somewhat sarcastically.

"Who _are_ you?" said Layton. "What do you want?"

**"Infinity,"** said the snake.

"Is that where we are now?" said Luke. He didn't look scared any more, but then the situation had long since passed the point where you could get surprised by anything any more. The abnormal was becoming normal.

**"Yes."**

_So this is, in truth, the very place Dimitri is trying to reach_, thought Layton_. The place where all space-times meet._

"You brought us both here?" he asked.

**"Yes. I am... responsible..."**

"Why?" said Layton, keenly interested because these 'yeses' had been the first direct answer they had received since they had arrived here.

**"To... help you see."**

"But how?" said Luke. "Didn't the scientist stabilise you?"

**"Infinity... is linked... to all space-times. He merely... dampened the magnetic field. He did not... completely extinguish it."**

Despite the pauses, that had been the most comprehensive sentence the mysterious person had come out with yet, and Layton was suddenly in a rush to get as much information as he could.

"I understand. You can still travel here, and coming here gives you access to all times. But let me ask you this: why do you keep teleporting us across different times?"

**"To show you... what must be done."**

There was a flash of blinding white light. And Layton was once more in a very different place.


	6. Layton's Hidden Memories

Wow, this really should have come out a lot sooner. I've been distracted by exams and other such real life events. Still, I received top marks, so the time spent revising was well worth it. ^_^

* * *

**Chapter 6: Layton's Hidden Memories**

* * *

Layton was standing in the centre point of a large clock face, inside a circular chamber made entirely of stone. The minute hand and hour hand were both pointing up from where he stood. Instead of numbers around the dial, however, there were pictures of animals painted at each of four points, like those of a compass.

Luke was nowhere to be seen, and he frowned, hoping that the boy would be all right by himself in Infinity... or whatever that world of white was. Shivering a little, he turned around slowly with his head slightly down, keen archaeologist's eyes scanning the ground for clues. The four animal paintings matched the animals from the Ouroboros' statement. A green dragon to the north, a white tiger to the south, a golden griffin to the west, and a green and purple snake to the east.

A puzzle of some sort?

**"Welcome... Hershel Layton..."**

Layton whirled right around in a circle, expecting to see someone beside one of the points of the clock, but he saw nothing. He clenched his fists, tensing for trouble, and took one step forward.

"Who's there?"

**"Someone... who... needs your help."**

Although the voice was echoing around the room, it also seemed to be wavering in and out, like a radio transmission losing its signal.

"You are the person in control of Polly?"

**"Correct..."**

"And you are responsible for sending Polly through time?"

**"Also correct..."**

"Well, then, before I can help I must ask a very pertinent question. Who are you?"

**"I cannot... tell you. Events within the time stream... have changed too much... I am running out of power... and time. I created... this illusory place... from memories… therein lie the clues… I think…"**

He had created an illusory world from memories? Was that even possible? The machine that Descole had created, the Detragan, had possessed the ability to copy a person's consciousness into another vessel. Perhaps this mysterious person had access to similar technology?

Suddenly, an image flashed before Layton; a memory of the last time he had seen Claire before she had left for the laboratory. He remembered how excited she had been, how her eyes had lit up when she had talked about her work at the Polydimensional Institute. So full of hopes for the future... He tried hard to quash the feeling of sadness that suddenly threatened to overwhelm him, and didn't quite succeed, though to the outside observer he would have looked as calm as ever.

_Claire..._

It seemed the unseen man had a mind-reading device as well, because he said, **"Please… it was the only way… to make sure… that you would believe... that what… you were seeing… is true… You are a very sceptical man."**

This was true, Layton was forced to admit.

It was funny how ten years had passed since Claire's death, and yet he still felt as irrational as ever when it came to remembering anything to do with his old flame. The feeling of powerlessness and guilt had never really left, they'd just been filed away to the bottom of his mind – not least because there were so many unanswered questions surrounding the experiment that took place that day. Unless he found out the real truth, he couldn't let go of Claire, because he felt that that would be doing a disservice to her and everything she had strived for while she had been alive.

"But," he said, slowly, "I wasn't present during that event. I only arrived after the explosion had happened…"

"**That was an important moment…"**

"Why?"

There was no answer, and Layton thought about his own question for a moment. If this was the same person that had teleported him to the time of the fateful explosion, then there had to be a reason for it. Was there something about that day? What was it?

Perhaps it was those very same answers that the other man was looking for.

"Do you want me to change the future?"

**"I need you... to plug the hole... to Infinity... that Dimitri... will open... otherwise space-time… will…"**

The voice left the sentence trailing, but it was easy to see where it was going.

_Hmm_, _so I must stop Dimitri from completing his project at all costs._

"But how? What is it you want me to change?"

**"The Time-error... to Infinity... The pivotal moment... Moment... must be restored..."**

The man's voice was very weak now; he appeared to be speaking with the utmost of effort in a desperate attempt to be heard.

"Wait!" said Layton. "Please. You must tell me everything you know. If I am to assist you, then I must have more information."

**"Out of power..." **said the voice, straining hard.** "Time-error... Must be closed... Time, running out... To assist you... I have… left you clues... You must figure… the… rest… own…"**

Suddenly, there was nothing, and Layton felt the temperature of the chamber rise. The voice had left. But he now noticed a bright green glow to his right, and turning his head, he saw that it was coming from the dragon picture to the north.

_The dragon shows faith_, he thought. With the voice gone, there was nothing more to do but to investigate the picture. He followed the clock hands, and stepped onto the dragon...

... and entered Folsense. This was the old Folsense, before he and Luke had shattered the grand illusion while on the trail of Pandora's Box. The buildings, flats and shops were lit up brightly, like a colourful shining casino at night, and yet an eerie darkness permeated the air. He was outside the old antiques shop, where an antiques stall stood in the middle of the road. He seemed to remember serving someone a cup of Dream Spice tea here.

"Greetings, Mr Layton."

The smooth voice made Layton turn around, and when he did so the surroundings immediately changed to that of a grand, luxurious room, as though someone had changed the background of a film set from spooky town to spooky castle. Duke Anton, master of the castle, was walking towards him, as youthful as he was before Layton had dispelled Folsense's illusion. His eyes gleamed red and his smile revealed two pointy teeth: a vampire.

In the real Folsense, Anton had not truly been a vampire. Folsense had been teeming with hallucinogenic gas that leaked through the very ground, which could cause you to lose all sense of reality. In Folsense, if you believed in something strong enough, it would actually come true. But Layton suspected that this current Folsense was part of the illusion created by the mysterious voice, simply because he knew the truth for what it was. He didn't believe in vampires, and he knew what Anton's true form looked like. It wasn't this.

"Do you believe I exist?" said Anton, tilting his head, and still with the cat-like smile.

That was quite a philosophical way to start a conversation. Layton hesitated, remembering for a moment that prior to this endeavour he had been in some kind of dream dimension where none of the laws of physics had made sense anyway, and then said: "You exist in the sense that you are standing in front of me. The true question is whether I created you as part of Folsense's illusion, whether you are someone else's creation, or whether you are the real Anton and have existed all along."

"Does it really matter, where I came from?"

"No, I suppose it doesn't," said Layton. If this was a test of faith, given to him by the unknown man, then he had to believe that what he seeing was really there, no matter how much his logical self resisted such an idea - at least for now. He could get to the bottom of the hows and whys later. "Whatever the circumstances surrounding your origins, the thing that matters most is that you are in front of me right here and now."

"Very good," said Anton, nodding. "In that case, I can tell you that you are responsible for my existence. You created me with the power of your mind."

Layton paused, surprised at how calm this faux Anton was while uttering this simple but astounding piece of information. "And... you're _aware_ that you are a creation?"

"Of course. I am a hidden memory from deep within your subconscious, given form. This place is an illusion made up of memories."

"So, this _is_ the work of the mysterious man, then."

Anton nodded again. "Your memories, and other people's memories, are being used to travel back in time," he said. "The mysterious man is searching for clues across different times. He wants to give you a message. He needs your help. That's why you went back in time to see the explosion that caused Claire's death. That moment is the key to everything."

"But who is this man?" said Layton, who felt that the answer to that question was important to understanding everything about this thus far. "Is he a time traveller, perhaps? An older Dimitri from further in the future? Descole? Myself?"

"I don't know. I am just a part of your subconscious. I am only telling you what you've already figured out. I can't tell you anything you don't already know. To find out more, you will have to look around, I expect."

In a flash of light, Layton was back in the clock face chamber. Looking around, he saw that he was once more alone. To his surprise, he discovered that he was holding a tattered piece of parchment, torn around the edges. He unfolded it, and inside, written in cursive writing, were the following words:

**Beware the man in the black top hat**

**He is in truth Schrödinger's Cat**

**Heart of steel, yet with a soul**

**To live or die is his true goal**

Ah.

A clue. And a cryptic one at that. Oddly enough, the sight made him feel a little more at ease, because here was something more within his remit. He was much more prepared to deal with clues in the form of a riddle as opposed to clues in the form of a person created from his own mind.

_Let's see_, he thought. Schrödinger's Cat: the paradoxical experiment in which a cat was placed inside a box with radioactive material. The cat would either live or die, depending on whether the material decayed or not. The paradox was that the two possible outcomes - life or death - existed simultaneously_,_ until you opened the box and the cat's outcome was finally observed.

The first line obviously referred to him. But he was quite sure his own 'goal' was not to live or die, so the entire riddle must have, in fact, been referring to his future self. Perhaps his future self was a paradox? Was that what needed to change?

It was at this point that the tiger picture began to glow. Slowly, and with some trepidation, Layton walked towards it. He was beginning to see the pattern, and was now wondering which memory the mysterious man's illusory world would take him to next.

* * *

Clive was in a strange place - still within the laboratory, he supposed, but at the same time he was unable to make sense of his surroundings and couldn't confirm whether he was still actually in the lab. He felt very confused. His eyes were closed and, with his mind swimming round and round in circles, he couldn't think straight at all. He felt the strong sensation that both his movements and his thoughts had slowed down to a crawl.

He couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't, what was thought and what was spoken out loud. The world outside was light and bubbly, and so he kept his eyes shut. Much safer that way. There was no way he could get up, not with his head feeling as dizzy as it was. So he stayed in bed.

Time blurred dreamily. Hours? Days? Weeks? He didn't know.

He heard footsteps, and he opened his eyes halfway. A baby Tyrannosaurus Rex walked towards him through the clouds, but when he blinked it turned out to be a man in a top hat walking through the laboratory. The man undid the wires that were connected to him, while a brown-haired lady in yellow and with a red bow tie approached his bed from the other side.

"Hello, Clive," said the man.

Clive struggled to reply. His brain was acting as though it was a video playing in slow motion, but after a lot of straining it did eventually supply him with the name of the man. Wasn't he the Prime Minister?

"Hello... Mr Layton..."

"Are you able to stand?"

Clive didn't feel that he could, but for some reason his mind couldn't grasp the idea of not complying with this man. The thought, _Can't get up,_ was there... but he couldn't _quite_ reach the thought to turn it into a reality, and so his brain chose another option, which was to make his body stand up right away, instead.

Idea number two was _not_ a good idea at all, because then the world swirled round.

The lady with the bow tie caught him before he fell, and bent down, fastening something around his arm. "Easy there, tiger. Let me just attach these to you, steady you a bit... We're going to get you out of this awful place."

Clive blinked slowly at Layton. Everything was running so slow. He couldn't even open his eyelids the whole way. He felt so sleepy that he was ready to drop straight back into bed. "You... want me... to go with you?"

"Yes."

"Is that lady my fairy godmother?"

More of a pause this time. "...Yes."

With much more effort than it should have taken, he blinked at her, too. "Can you... magic me... back home? The Dimitri fairy... he won't let me leave."

The two adults exchanged glances.

"You're... very heavily sedated, my boy."

Clive's response was to collapse on the floor.

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #5 - ]**

Few things satisfied like a puzzle solved, but enacting revenge on the person that had torn the light out of his soul - taken the love of his life - and turned him into this abominable shadow... that would be most satisfying indeed.

Layton smiled dreamily at the thought. He would make Bill pay for what he'd done.

Of course, he couldn't have Luke involved in this depravity. Nor Flora. They wouldn't understand this deepest of dark desires. It was better that he cut all ties. Predictably, Luke had been upset when his father had asked him to go home prematurely. Little did the boy know that Layton himself had been directly responsible...

The tiny part of his mind that had retained a modicum of rationality cried out, trying to reason with this madness - this disturbingly pleasing overindulgence in plotting the deaths of several human beings, but it was swiftly silenced.

He wanted to utterly break Hawks, and that would take a plan so cunning and ruthless that only a genius mind like his would be able to both devise and implement it.

He already had the beginnings of such a plan, thanks to the schematics he had appropriated from Descole. Now all he had to do was mould Dimitri into doing exactly what he wanted... which would be easy enough. Dimitri wanted revenge on Bill as well.

He forced himself to hold a neutral expression as he entered the Chinese restaurant through the secret back entrance. He couldn't let on to Dimitri that something was amiss. He gave the Family thug guarding the door a subdued, but frosty look.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, ignoring the machine gun that was pointing towards him. "I have a proposition for your boss."

From the back of the room, Dimitri folded his arms, and tilted his head, looking somewhat surprised. "It's fine," he said, "let him through."

**[ - 5 - ]**

* * *

Having stepped onto the tiger pattern adorning the giant clock face, Layton looked around at his new surroundings. Old memories stirred from the depths of his mind and rose quickly to the surface as he recognised the road he was on, one from a long time ago. It was called Sutherland Street, and it was situated near Victoria Station, in central London. It was where he had grown up as a child, and he was standing right outside his old house. Looking around, none of the mechanical gears or industrial pipes were installed here, and there were ordinary cars parked along the edges of the road, so this could not have been the future. But at which point in the past, then, was this Sutherland Street?

He walked up the stone stairs to the house, and reached for the door knocker, curiosity gnawing at his insides, and then he paused. If this was indeed in the past, would he meet his own past self here?

There was another flash of white light, and now he was in the lounge, on the first floor of the house. It was a well-furnished room, with red, intricately decorated carpet on the ground, and matching curtains framing the window on the far side. Just as he remembered it. On one side of the room was an ornate wooden cabinet, with tiny dolls and animals made of crystalline glass on the top shelf; and with books about the great composers, and about ancient civilisations - the Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians - stacked neatly on the bottom shelf.

On the other side of the room was a Steinway upright piano. And there was his younger self, a child of about six sitting on the piano stool, grumbling a little as he hit a bum note. Next to the boy, on a wooden chair, was his mother.

She was very much the spitting image of her son, except that her brown hair was long, and tied in a pony-tail; and her face was a great deal more expressive. When she smiled, everything around her lit up.

They didn't seem to notice his presence, even though they have clearly been able to see him, made apparent when she suddenly rose to pour herself a glass of water. It was as if he were a ghost. On this day, she had been trying to teach him the scale of F major, though he had been finding it difficult today, quite distracted by the thought of building the model dinosaur his father had bought for him earlier that day.

Another flash of light brought Layton to an excavation site, with various people working around the stony remains of an old Roman fort. This was not London, but Kent, roughly fifteen years later. He could see himself amongst the hubbub, still a student at this point in his life. Strangely enough, he could smell the dust and freshly dug up earth as though he was really there once more, and more memories, of his life at university, came to the top of his mind.

Layton was half-expecting to see an incarnation of his mentor, Dr Schrader, as another hidden memory taken from within his mind. But rather shockingly, a green dinosaur crawled out of the hole in the earth directly in front of him instead. It was huge, towering over Layton, and with an S-shaped neck, a crocodile head, and cone-shaped teeth.

It was a Baryonyx, which... sort of made sense, in a nonsensical way. It was at this very excavation site where Layton had discovered the fossil of its claw, years ago. Perhaps _this_ was the next memory brought from his subconscious.

The Baryonyx growled softly, clawing at the ground with its right foot, and then said: "You. Hershel Layton. Seeker of knowledge. Listen well."

Layton thought: _The tiger represents power_. "I am listening."

"Your future self is responsible for my existence. I am formed from a memory that both exists and yet does not exist."

This sounded suspiciously like the Schrödinger's Cat scenario, so Layton decided to cut to the chase.

"Do you have a riddle for me to solve, perchance?" he said.

"I have a question," the dinosaur replied, "though you need not answer it. You need only listen." It had a surprisingly gentle voice, almost floating on the wind.

"Very well," said Layton, nodding.

"You thirst for knowledge, seek it out to the ends of the earth, even tear the earth asunder to fill your insatiable curiosity. There is no end to your inquisitiveness. But what would you do if you were to discover the end of all ends, the grand puzzle beyond time, space, and all existence - the answer to the greatest question of all?"

Without waiting for an answer, the Baryonyx went on: "If you were given knowledge of how the universe came to be; how lifeless atoms themselves conspire to make life; how the forces that drive the planets and create stars are able to work in the way that they do, what would you do with all that knowledge?

"Would you use it to help others, or would you use it to further your own cause?

"To save a woman you loved - and still love - dearly... how far would you go?"

This struck Layton hard, and he recoiled as if an invisible person had punched him in the gut.

_Claire..._

_Would_ his future self have done such a thing?

"Your future self chose power," the Baryonyx confirmed. "What will you choose?"

Layton blinked slowly, and took in a deep breath, before looking back at his younger self, who was still taking part in the excavation work intently. He thought back to his life as a child. It would have surprised Luke greatly to know that his gentlemanly mentor had been quite the unruly child in the past. Even at an early age, Hershel's mind had always been full of questions, and while that was true of most kids, not every child would try to take their own home apart in order to come up with the answers.

The house would be full of what his mother called "little home-made projects", but the thing about young Hershel's home-made inventions was that they really were _home-made_. While he'd come up with, say, a small lighter-than-air aircraft for delivering post, or a machine dedicated to the manufacture of the perfect cup of tea, the maid would find that the oven had suddenly stopped working, the long dining room table had caught on fire, and that curtains, cutlery, doorknobs and the odd piece of jewellery had gone for mysterious walkies. At school, he'd somehow managed to make his classroom explode using only copper wire, cotton wool and a pair of tweezers, at which point his father had pulled him to one side, shoved a thick, heavy book in his hands and said: "Here, son. See if you can solve _these_ puzzles."

That heralded the beginning of a more bookish Hershel. During his teenage years he mellowed out substantially, developing more of an interest in the theory behind the sciences and indeed the history behind them, and behind humanity itself, though he still enjoyed building somethings out of nothings from time to time. It was at university that his best friend had persuaded him to take up archaeology as a full-time subject.

"In order to build the future," he'd said, "you have to understand the past. You have to understand how _humans_ work, how culture develops and grows." He'd added (with a wry grin and a nudging elbow), "Besides, it's safer for the rest of humanity if you don't blow up the entire universe trying to figure out how it works!"

Of course, his friend had been joking all those years ago... but what if some time in the future, that was exactly what his future self had done? Or was about to do? Or was in the process of doing?

A flash of light signalled his return to the clock room, and he was holding another piece of parchment, though he didn't open it straight away, feeling rather troubled by the most recent hidden memory experience. The dinosaur's question was not so much a question, as a warning of things to come... And yet, the creature had seemed to imply that he had a choice - that there was still a way to avoid disaster.

He sighed, unravelling the paper, and therein lay another rhyming riddle.

**The masked man searched for a mind that's lost**

**He gained control - but at what cost?**

**A crow reveals the mask's true sin**

**A wolf conceals the lie within**

This riddle snapped him out of his brooding thoughts. It could only be referring to Descole.

* * *

Flora woke up, and found herself in a completely different place to where she'd collapsed. This bed was soft and large, and had a pleasant _just been washed_ fragrance. She must have been moved from the _Baryonyx_ airship while she had been asleep.

She didn't really care. She didn't even want to get up. Actually, she did, but though her brain was telling her body to move, her body wasn't listening. So she stayed in bed.

Over the next two weeks, she walked around what she'd been told was a recovery centre for people with her 'condition'. She ate well, and had a luxurious room to herself, so she saw no reason to complain. There was a TV, a piano and some snooker tables in the lounge for her and the other 14-16 year olds. There was even a gym on the first floor.

It never occurred to her that there was anything _odd_ about all this. Nor did it occur to her that, surely, Future Luke would have come to visit. It didn't even cross her mind, that her own Layton and Luke should have come to rescue her - that she was, in fact, a prisoner.

It was roughly two weeks after she had first arrived when her situation changed. Flora was in her well-kept room, combing her hair, and there was a knock on the door. She opened the door, believing it to be one of the staff asking if she wanted breakfast. Instead, a figure with a flowery shawl appeared, grabbing her and covering her mouth with a cloth.

All Flora could think was, _Oh, fiddlesticks, not another kidnapping_, before she passed out.

* * *

The griffin picture had taken Layton to the River Thames. And, with cape billowing in the wind, Descole stood on the south side of the river, seeming to stare at the full moon. Once again, Layton's superb knowledge of London came to his aid. This area was called Rotherhithe. You could see Tower Bridge to the west from here.

Once more, Layton was surprised by the identity of the hidden memory. It was Ward of the Family who came to stand beside him. He was still looking as smug as he'd been when they'd first met.

He said: "I'm not your hidden memory, nor am I your future self's. But I've been brought forth to question you, all the same."

"Question me?" said Layton.

Ward held an index finger up. "Wait. Watch over there, first."

The next person to arrive on the river's banks surprised Layton even more. It was another Professor Layton. This couldn't have taken place that long ago - three to four years at the most - because Descole recognised the other Layton straight away.

He saw himself brandishing a sword, uncharacteristically snarling at Descole while charging at his foe, and Layton frowned deeply. There was a huge problem with this situation. Unlike all the other situations that had been presented to him, this was _not_ his memory.

"I don't remember this," he told Ward quietly. "I never fought Descole by the River Thames. This never happened to me."

Ward harrumphed. "I already told you. This is someone _else's_ hidden memory."

"But I'm still there," Layton whispered, uncomfortable with seeing himself lose his self-control in such an ungentlemanly way. "If this isn't my memory, then why am I there fighting Descole? It doesn't make any sense."

"Would you like to know whose subconscious created me?" said the fake Ward.

"Yes..." said Layton.

With a white flash, the scene changed once more, and now Layton was standing in a giant underground lab, with a battery-shaped machine that took up half the room. It had a giant clock face at one end. Descole was working hard on this huge mechanical device, typing commands into an interface of sorts. So this was Descole's hidden memory? Why was the mysterious person showing him this? What significance did this particular event have?

Ward had travelled with him. "I have a challenging question to ask," he said, "but I think you now might know what it is I am about to ask."

"Yes, I believe so," said Layton, "if this illusion is supposedly an illustration of courage."

"The griffin represents inner courage," said Ward, adjusting his glasses. "It's the courage from deep within, the courage to face what you fear the most. And so: do you have the courage to face yourself? To look deep within yourself, and question what it is that makes you you?"

This time, when presented with the unsettling question from the clock face hidden memory, Layton was more sure of himself. "Yes," he replied, with great conviction. "I _will_ stop myself."

The world flashed white, and Layton was in the clock face room again. He looked at the parchment, which this time read:

**Two brains collide inside an eye**

**And then - a battle! above the sky**

**Sun and sea and stars in song**

**Time must fix where time went wrong**

This rhyming riddle was quite a bit more obscure. But suddenly Layton knew exactly what the mysterious man wanted him to do. Even if he didn't yet know how he would do it, it didn't matter any more. He _would_ find a way to stop himself and Dimitri, no matter what.

The room became colder once more, and he looked at the snake picture. There, on the picture, stood Polly the parrot.

"I'm ready," Layton told him.

**"Good..."** said the voice, still weak. **"With last... ounce... energy... will... take you... back... to... future..."**

Suddenly, Layton was back on the streets of mechanical London again, and both Luke and Polly had returned with him. It was evening now, the sky just beginning to turn darker, the streets lit up by a glow of oranges and whites, and there were not as many people about.

They were not outside Gressenheller University any more, but back at Russell Square. The park at Russell Square was almost exactly as Layton remembered it in his own time; apparently his future self had not seen the need to change it in any way.

Polly was back to normal, on the ground preening his green feathers with his beak as though nothing had happened. In fact, this time Layton didn't feel the usual disorientation and nausea associated with the time-skips, and Luke was looking quite chipper as well, if a little panicked. He guessed that Cuthbert's gyroscope was doing its job.

"This is really weird, Professor!" said Luke, shaking his head nervously. "I really do think Polly's being possessed. I know you don't believe in that sort of thing, but... I don't know how else to explain it."

_That wasn't even the weirdest part about all this_, Layton thought. _Did we really visit a place where all space-times meet? And did I really just visit a world comprised solely of memories?_

He checked his pockets. There were all three parchments inside. Proof that _something_ had happened, at the very least.

"Look, Professor. Someone's coming this way."

The square of Russell Square was diagonal against the points of the compass, and the corner they had arrived at was the northern most tip. A man approached them from the south east. He was wearing a helmet, as well as camouflage overalls, and Layton's first thought was: _A military pilot?_

The man's eyes were narrowed, and very focused on something just beyond them in the air, and his lips were set hard into a firm frown that marred his youthful appearance. So distracted was he by the sky that he didn't notice them at first, but when he did he gasped and put one hand over his mouth.

"My word," he said, his eyes widening. He hesitated, almost as if he were afraid to come any further, lest he shatter a delicate illusion. "It really _is_ you, Professor."

Layton took special note of the fact that this was the first person to address him as professor since they had arrived in the future. "Forgive me for asking, but... do I know you?"

"Don't you recognise me, Professor? It's me... Luke Triton."


	7. A Boy Named Luke

Egads, dreaded writer's block. Wasn't happy with this chapter so it ended up being completely rewritten, but I was having huge trouble doing the rewriting. Still, it's done now.

Thanks to Dr. Capleton for pointing out "proposition" to me, and also to SamCyberCat for being, well, awesome. Seriously, go read her fics. They're amazing. And thanks to everyone else reading/reviewing/favouriting etc. I hope the wait hasn't put too many people off!

Chapter notes: Stratford is the location of the Olympic park for the London 2012 Olympics. Small inside joke on my part. :)

* * *

**Chapter 7: A Boy Named Luke**

* * *

Luke had wanted to meet his future self for a good while, but now that he was face to face with himself, he wasn't quite sure how to act, because his older self looked so different to what he had been expecting. With the goggles over his forehead, the thick boots and the matted overalls in various shades of blue and brown, the overall effect was some kind of cross between an electrician, an army soldier and a pilot. It made one wonder just what the heck he had been up to in the last ten years, especially since moments earlier he had been wearing a face that looked as though he had a huge vendetta against the world, and woe betide anybody that tried to stop him from exacting bloody vengeance.

Could this cold, angry man _really_ be him?

Aware that he was staring, Luke finally managed to say, "You're... the future me?"

Future Luke crossed his arms and a cheeky smile appeared, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous amusement. He tilted his head a little. "Yes. It's good to finally meet you both."

Layton tipped his hat. "Pleased to meet you. I have many questions for you..."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't," said Future Luke. "Not least of which, I'm sure you're doubting whether or not I am, in fact, the real Luke Triton. I wasn't really sure of the best way to prove it to you. It took me a while, but eventually I came up with a way."

"Indeed...?" said Layton.

Future Luke nodded, and took a few paces in front of them, before turning back round to face them again. "Do you remember the very first puzzle you gave me, Professor?"

Layton looked thoughtful for a moment. "I believe so. But that's going quite a way back... You still remember it, do you?"

"Of course. It involved a Sunday roast," said Future Luke, smiling again.

The action brought a smile to Layton's own face, and suddenly Luke felt compelled to defend himself, as well as... himself.

"There's nothing wrong with liking a Sunday roast," he said.

In his view, this was an opinion worth opining. There really was nothing like a well-cooked Sunday roast. The taste of juicy, tender beef; the succulent, tasty potatoes; the crunchy and yet soft, puffy feel of a Yorkshire pudding...

"Um, Professor?"

"Yes, Luke?"

"I'm getting hungry."

Future Luke laughed. "How long have you been out walking?"

Layton looked at his watch, and then seemed to realise something. "Oh, of course. Hmm. Well, according to my watch, we've only been out for about two hours. I suppose if we were back in our own time it would be lunch-time right now."

"Not to worry," said Future Luke. "There's plenty of food at the base. Let's walk inside the park, and I'll tell you how I intend to prove my identity to you both."

They followed him through the park gates, onto a pebbled path. The inside of Russell Square Gardens was wide-open and spacious, with many trees spread out across the grounds, and the trees far enough apart and tall enough so that you could see from one end of the square to the other. Since the sun was going down, there were only a couple of people around right now, and though it was a gorgeous park, it also felt somewhat lonely in its emptiness, particularly with the heavily mechanised buildings surrounding the park in the background.

Not too far inside, a heli-blimp was parked next to an impressively sized tree. The airship was much like Dimitri's one-manned ship except that it was larger, with more doors and with enough space to carry several passengers. Future Luke walked over to it, pulling out a device from one of his many pockets. He then pushed a button, and the aircraft made a bleeping noise, whirring into life.

Turning back round to face them both, he said, "So... your puzzle, Professor. I've devised a variation of it - huh?"

A flutter of wings had distracted Future Luke, and he looked down at the pebbled path, where Polly was hobbling beside his left leg.

"Oh, no... It's that bloody parrot again."

"THAT BLOODY PARROT, THAT BLOODY PARROT," Polly mimicked irritably. "GIVE ME A BREAK, BIG LUKE SHOULD."

He peered up at Future Luke and added in a series of squawks: "You're the elder Animal Speaker, right? Well, I have a name, thank you very much. And this has been a nightmare for me as well, I'll have you know. You think I _want_ to go flying about all over time and space?"

"Oh, er, sorry," Future Luke squawked back, now looking a little flustered. "Didn't realise you spoke English. Some birds can mimic human words, but they don't actually understand what it is they're saying."

Layton and Luke exchanged glances. The ability to speak to animals wasn't a common occurrence amongst humans in the slightest. It didn't matter how adept at wearing disguises you were; you couldn't fake something like that. It'd be like Don Paolo suddenly knowing how to speak Dolphin... probably not entirely impossible, given the man's scientific credentials, but not very likely either.

"Not me, sonny Jim," Polly replied, puffing his chest feathers out proudly. "I'm a bird of many talents, me."

"I can see that," said Future Luke.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing... It's just - well, you kinda messed our time machine up. You're generating this huge magnetic field and it's interfered with our operation to bring the professor here to our time."

"That wasn't me, that's the voice in my head," said Polly. "He's all garbled up, but I think he's trying to reach the Top Hat human as well. Guess you interfered with each other, eh? Even though you wanted the same thing."

Future Luke raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know parrots could have hallucinations."

"You dingbat, he's not in my mind, he's in my body. He keeps borrowing my body and making me go all across space-time and stuff. If anyone can get rid of the blighter, they'll be my best friend for life. Actually, I'm also hoping Top Hat here might be able to help. He's good at solving mysteries, isn't he?"

"Well, I'm convinced!" said Luke, in English. "There aren't many people who can have a fluent conversation in Parrot."

As one, both Future Luke and Polly turned to face Luke; clearly they'd both forgotten about the other two people present. "Oh, right," Future Luke said, in English. "Heh, sorry 'bout that."

"I must admit that, after seeing you just now, I'm convinced as well," said Layton.

"Really?" said Future Luke. "Now I _am_ surprised. That didn't take as much work as I thought it would."

"Thanks to the person inhabiting our parrot friend here," said Layton, "we've been jumping across various points in time and space, and, to be honest, after experiencing the, uh, lawless state of our previous locations, it's just as likely that you _are_ Luke Triton. Perhaps more so."

Future Luke looked as though someone had popped a hole in his blimp and caused it to deflate.

"Oh," he said. "And after I went to all that trouble to come up with the most fiendish puzzle I could think of, too... Well, in that case, if the parrot's going to be hanging around with us..."

"POLLY," said Polly, in his squawky version of English. "POLLY'S NAME IS POLLY."

"Right, Polly," said Future Luke, also in English, apparently so that the professor could understand as well. He reached into one of many pockets and bent down, holding out a small ring towards Polly. "Here, you should put this on."

"ANOTHER ONE?" said Polly. "ALREADY PUT RING ON POLLY'S LEG, SCIENTIST DID. LOOK. SEE?"

"Hmm... That looks like a gyroscope, which stabilises your signature... This one hides your signature." He clipped the new ring around Polly's free leg, and then stood up. "Your magnetic field is broadcasting like a beacon. I bet the guys at Dimitri's lab have noticed you by now."

"Dimitri can suck my feathered arse," Polly squawked.

Future Luke laughed again. "I like your attitude," he said. "But we'd better keep an eye on you all the same."

"AGREE WITH YOU, POLLY DOES," said Polly. He flittered up, and perched himself on Luke's shoulder. "TRAVEL WITH YOU, POLLY WILL."

"Good, that's the spirit," said Future Luke.

He ushered Luke and Layton into his aircraft, through a side door. The ship was like a minibus; there was a lot of space on the inside where seats could have gone, which was occupied instead by bits of machinery and screens, firmly attached to the walls of the vehicle. Luke guessed they were perhaps used in some kind of monitoring, like radar.

"Wow," he said, eyes widening at the thought of owning his very own airship. "Would you look at all this?" He couldn't help but look up at his future self in admiration. "And you can fly this?"

Future Luke nodded, smiling warmly. "Gosh, this brings me back," he said, as Luke eagerly took a seat beside the window just by the door. "I've forgotten how easily excited I used to get." He asked Luke to put on a helmet, and then gave Layton a wry, knowing look. "There's no point in me asking you to take off your hat in the interest of aviation safety, is there, Professor?"

"Well, a gentleman can't very well go flying over the streets of London without his hat on, can he?"

"Yes, that's what I thought," Future Luke said, smiling again. "Make sure your seatbelts are on tight, at any rate."

He slammed the door shut and walked round to the front, and then he climbed inside and sat in the pilot seat, flicking a few switches on the front panel. He called back: "Do you hear that rumbling noise?"

Luke cocked his head, squinting his eyes a little in concentration. There was a whirring noise from somewhere above, a constant hum, different to the sounds of the Airbuses, and always increasing in volume.

"Yes..." said Layton.

"What does it mean?" said Luke.

"Trouble, most likely," said Future Luke, pulling his goggles over his eyes. "Still... stiff upper lip, and all that. Got to keep going. Stare adversity in the face."

"Erm," said Luke, now feeling like a deflated blimp himself. "Is that supposed to be reassuring?"

"Not at all," said his future self. "It's supposed to brace you all for danger."

"Hmm..." said Layton.

Luke was inclined to agree with the concerned sounding _Hmm_. This didn't bode well. Just what was his future self up to? Maybe they shouldn't have been so quick to trust him after all.

The rotors on the sides of the wings whirred, and the airship rose vertically. Aside from the initial jolt, the ascent was surprisingly gentle; the vehicle was more or less gliding upwards. Luke looked out of the window, watching the trees getting gradually smaller - just as several more car-heli-blimps arrived together in a group, in the centre of the park near the fountain, some thirty feet away.

"The Met, eh?" said Future Luke. "Good, just as I planned..."

_Those are police ships, then?_ thought Luke. His older self sounded like he was looking forward to a skirmish, and not just casually interested in seeing several police cars suddenly appear as if arriving at the scene of a crime.

This didn't bode well _at all_.

There was a static noise from the front panel, and Future Luke pressed a button, which allowed a voice to come through on the radio.

"Hey! You up there! This is the police! You're under arrest!"

Luke recognised the voice: it was Barton.

"Okay," Future Luke said, talking into a transceiver, "hold on, don't shoot, I give up..." He pushed a few buttons and pulled on a lever, and lowered the airship.

"Er, right..." said Barton, over the radio. He sounded as though he'd been expecting Future Luke to put up a fight. Luke was wondering what on earth his future self would do next. Were they just going to give up? But maybe the police officers would all think the professor was the prime minister again. Was that Future Luke's plan?

"Um, no funny business, Triton. Our orders are to shoot first, but I'd really rather not..."

"Understood, Inspector," said Future Luke, landing the ship where he had parked it earlier, next to the grand tree.

_Ah, so he's __Inspector__ Barton now,_ thought Luke. _I wonder where Chelmey's ended up?_

"Er... Luke," said Layton, still sounding a little anxious, and understandably so.

"Yes, Professor?" said Luke.

"No, I mean the elder Luke. Big Luke."

"What is it, Professor?" said Future Luke.

"You're, er, not partaking in any illegal activities, are you, Luke?"

Even though they were looking at the back of his head, the tone of voice indicated that he was amused by the question. "If by illegal you mean 'saving London from Dimitri's diabolical plan', then yes. Yes I am."

"Oh dear," said Layton.

"It gets even better," said Future Luke, now sounding rather more serious, "but I'll explain everything once we're safe." He flicked another switch. "Hold on tight to Polly back there, this could be a rough ride."

"Right..." said Luke, taking Polly in both hands.

"Oh dear..." said Layton again.

Future Luke waited for the police blimps to land right next to his airship, before suddenly causing the ship to shoot upwards, like a rocket - and this time the ascent was a good deal more bumpy. He accelerated forwards, leaving the park boundaries and turning left, to the west, and then he followed the road round in its square.

The police ships activated their sirens and gave chase. Future Luke continued to speed down the square, racing south before making two lefts in quick succession and heading north. Luke felt his heart leap into his throat when his future self swerved sharply to the right, the inertia forcing him to lean to the left; and he desperately clung onto Polly, who was frantically flapping his wings and squawking in fright. Soon after entering the new road, and now travelling east, Future Luke weaved the ship downwards to avoid an oncoming collision with another airship, nearly clipping the London Underground sign from Russell Square tube station in the process.

"BLOODY NORA! TRYING TO KILL US, ANIMAL SPEAKER IS!" said Polly.

"There is a method to my madness," said Future Luke, still merrily speeding away.

"Or, there is a madness in the method," said Layton, whose hat had, by some miracle, actually managed to stay on his head. Surely there was some physics law-breaking going on there, Luke couldn't help but think.

Still flying east, Future Luke charged onwards, skimming the boundary of a new, larger park called Coram's Fields. It was getting darker now, and though the area was well lit by street lamps, the city of the future took on a rather different identity without natural light. Now the streets' machines held an almost sinister air about them; it reminded Luke of Folsense.

Directly ahead there seemed to be some sort of shimmer in the sky, as though they were about to fly through sparkling water. Future Luke entered the glowing air and braked sharply. All of a sudden, there was another ship next to them, which immediately departed at the same as their airship came to a stop, and the new ship shot through the glistening wall of air.

Future Luke slowly directed their ship down to the ground, just as Luke heard the buzzing whirr of the police ships shooting past above them, in hot pursuit of the second ship. The police continued east, and the buzzing eventually died away.

"Heh," said Future Luke. "By the time they catch up with that decoy ship, it'll self-destruct, and we'll be long gone."

"But why did they simply pass by us?" said Layton.

Future Luke turned round in his seat to smirk at them. "Cloaking device," he said.

"Wow!" said Luke, sitting up straight in excitement. "Did you hear that, Professor?"

"Yes. Quite remarkable," said Layton. "This technology is very advanced indeed..."

Still in Luke's arms, Polly tilted his head quizzically. "CLOAKING... DEVICE?"

"Well, we like to call it that," said Future Luke. "It rolls off the tongue better than 'Photon Refractor'."

"A PHOTON REFRACTOR, WHAT IS?" said Polly. Luke was glad he'd asked, because he was wondering the same thing.

"It renders the ship invisible," said Future Luke, "by bending light around the ship to create the illusion that the ship has disappeared."

"DISAPPEARED SHIP...? LIKE RINGS, IT IS. MAKE POLLY DISAPPEAR, THEY DO."

"Yes, exactly. It's just like the rings you're wearing. The problem is that we can't move very fast at all while it's active, so it's best used as a surprise move. We can only use it on very small ships, too. Works great for non-moving objects, though."

Future Luke faced the front again, and Luke couldn't help but stare at the back of his head in awe. It was strange, seeing himself like this... So confident. So... in control. He'd obviously planned this escape from the beginning. But why was he even on the run from the police in the first place? It wasn't making any sense...

_I wonder if this is as weird for him as it is for me?_ he thought. _Maybe he already knows what's going to happen because he's been through this before. One of those time loop things._

Future Luke set off again, turning to the north and flying over the park. It was to Luke's relief that their pilot was going at a much more calmer pace. As well as the physical limitations of the cloaking device, flying an invisible airship obviously carried a high risk of collision in a busy metropolis like London.

They reached the main road and Future Luke turned to the right, where they could see St Pancras station on the left, and the Town Hall on the right. King's Cross station was further along the road on the left, opposite a post office and a large bank. Both stations were lit up by lots of tiny night lights, and, unlike Russell Square, there was a buzz of activity as commuters walked on the pavement. Airships like Future Luke's flew just slightly above them, and scooters on the ground driving underneath them. Airbuses landed and departed from a landing bay just to the north of King's Cross.

There was an immense humming noise that, somehow, drowned out the sound of everything else, like an airplane landing _very_ close. Future Luke slowed down and came to a halt, hovering just above the green roof which was in front of the clock tower on King's Cross station. They were near the entrance, and people continued to walk underneath them, all none the wiser.

"Something the matter, Luke?" said Layton. "You've picked an odd place to stop."

"Maybe. I was expecting something of the sort, to be honest..."

As the humming noise grew louder, a few people in the street stopped and pointed up to the sky, and Luke turned his gaze upwards. The roof was blocking his view; he couldn't quite see what the passers-by were getting so excited about.

"Is it okay to open the window?" he asked.

"Yes," said Future Luke, "but everyone needs to be quiet. We're invisible and I've dampened the engine noise, but people will still be able to hear us talk if they get close enough."

"Right," said Luke. He wound the window down and put his head out. He could just about see...

And there it was. The aircraft was _huge_.

Roughly about half the length of the hotel of St Pancras, the airship was a shiny metallic blue, sleek; and with sharp fins, it looked like a mechanised shark, if sharks had long wings and could fly.

And it was fast! So fast! Luke had barely even registered its shape, before it had swept across them - only to be followed by a second ship, and then a third, both flying slightly behind and at either side of the first. Luke counted at least six more, the last two of which slowed down and came to a stop right above the post office; and then there was a different ship, about a quarter of the size, and with helicopter rotors as wings. This one had a brown, rustic coating, and was very rectangular, like a floating horizontal fridge.

Layton said, as quietly as he could given the current noise, "They can't track us, I hope?"

Future Luke nodded. "No, but..." He growled softly. "What's he doing...?"

_He?_ thought Luke.

Suddenly, the radio made a hissing sound.

"I know you're here somewhere, Luke."

"Son of a... quick, close the window," said Future Luke.

Luke nodded and complied.

Polly made a hiss of his own, indicating severe displeasure. "DIMITRI, IT IS." He tried to move out of Luke's hands, and sensing his restlessness, Luke let him go. He flapped his wings and flew upwards, landing on Luke's shoulder.

"I _knew_ he was still in the area," said Future Luke. He pulled his goggles back up on top of his forehead, and turned back to face them all again, locking eyes with Luke. "Did you see a brown ship when you were looking out the window?"

"Yeah," said Luke. "It was a lot smaller than the other ones. It looked like a floating fridge."

"That's the _Antares_. It belongs to Dimitri. The bigger ships are military airships. But what's he doing here so far afield? And so close to the launch date of his prized project, as well."

"So... he's not looking for _you_, specifically?" said Layton.

"Even if he was, it's still highly irregular. It's not like Dimitri to be out in person, in full force like this. He conducts his research far in east London, and that's generally where he stays. Normally it's the Family - or the police - that I have to watch out for. Not Dimitri himself."

"Really?" said Luke. "He seemed perfectly happy to meet and greet us at the professor's uni."

"Hmm, we were wondering what he was doing at Gressenheller..." said Future Luke. "It still doesn't make sense. He shouldn't have been able to track you. That's why I gave you those rings in the letter. Otherwise, I would have tried to meet with you a lot sooner. If I had known he was still going to be here in central London this evening I would have come with more forces myself."

"AFTER POLLY, DIMITRI IS," Polly said. "TO EXPERIMENT ON POLLY, DIMITRI WANTS. TOLD LITTLE ANIMAL SPEAKER THIS, POLLY DID."

"Ah," said Layton, who sounded as though he had figured something out, "that's why you didn't trust Dimitri when we met him, Luke. Little Luke, I mean."

Luke nodded. "Yup!"

"Ah...!" said Future Luke. "I see. So Polly's magnetic field did draw him here after all. Certainly didn't waste any time, did he?"

"Speaking of which," said Luke, "can't you teleport us out of trouble, Polly? Like you did before?"

"WITHOUT VOICE SPIRIT? AWK. MYSTERY GHOST COMES AND GOES, HE DOES. CONTROL, POLLY CANNOT."

"I think... he might have run out of power trying to communicate with us," said Layton.

"PROBABLY," said Polly.

"Figures," said Future Luke.

"Shame," said Luke. "We could really use his ability right now."

"I have another question for you, Big Luke," said Layton. "Who - or what - is the Family?"

"That's the name of the huge criminal syndicate operating in London," Future Luke replied. "They take part in torture, murder, intimidation, and all behind closed doors. The police - at least those officers who haven't been corrupted or bribed - aren't even aware of the Family's existence, for the most part, but the syndicate has ties with Dimitri, to the extent that you could call them a form of secret police."

"So..." said Luke. "Not only is Dimitri a bigwig scientist with military backing, but he's also got criminals working for him?"

Future Luke sighed gently through his nose, suddenly looking very tired. "That's the gist of it, yes. The public thinks Dimitri is a respectable scientist dedicated to the betterment of mankind, but nothing could be further from the truth."

"Gosh, how awful!" said Luke.

"Yes... well... I do hope you're beginning to see why I brought you here. Dimitri's goal is to gain control over time. I must stop him, and I'm going to need your help to do it."

"But what about Descole?" said Luke. "What's he got to do with all this?"

"Descole?" said Future Luke, raising an eyebrow. "How on earth did you find out about him?"

"All the animals at London Zoo were fitted with control devices identical to the ones that Descole used to employ," said Layton. "We've suspected his involvement ever since."

"Hmm, well, he had built a working time machine," said Future Luke. "But we managed to commandeer it. That's how we brought you both here."

"Is that why you're on the run? Because you stole a time machine?" said Luke.

"Sort of."

Layton had a hand on his chin. He said, "I fear there is more to this... that the situation is a great deal more complex than it would first appear..."

Future Luke said, "I had a feeling you might have already figured most of it out, Professor. I can give you more details once we're safe. For now... I'll have to ask you all to remain quiet. I'm about to question the good doctor out there, and it wouldn't do for him to know about your presence on my ship."

Layton and Luke both nodded, and Polly said, "SEALED, POLLY'S BEAK IS."

Future Luke turned back round, picked up the transceiver and pushed a button.

"What ho, Doctor Allen!"

There was an almost startled pause from the other end; and then Dimitri's voice came through on the radio again.

"Goodness gracious! How bold of you, Luke! I thought you had already left for pastures new."

"Nope. Just saying hello. See how you are. That sort of thing."

"Were you bold enough to come all the way here on your own? That would be a foolish move, although not beyond the realm of possibility."

"Why don't you try your luck and see?" said Future Luke. Luke was surprised by the bright, teasing tone in both their voices. It was as if they were playing a board game, and Future Luke was asking Dimitri to take a chance and roll the die. "My ships aren't impervious to your ships' machine guns, you know."

The next pause had a careful air, as though Dimitri was considering his options.

"...I'm hardly going to have the army fire indiscriminately upon the general public on the off-chance that there _might_ be one of your ships in front of me. On the other hand, if you had any chance of launching a _successful_ attack, you would not have given up the element of surprise, would you? That leads me to surmise that you are alone - or at least, here in too few number to try."

"You have no idea where we are, Doc. In the sewer, or along any of the King's Cross Underground platforms... or are we in the sky?"

"It would appear that, once again, we are at an impasse," said Dimitri. "You'll get away again, I'm forced to admit."

"Always a pleasure outwitting you, Doc," said Future Luke. "After all, you have no way to find us, do you? Apart from me staying on the line for too long. Heh."

"Indeed..." said Dimitri, sounding rather like the cat that had strolled into the aviary. "But I'm rather more interested in _why_ you're here. Luke Triton himself, making an appearance in the middle of central London? Have you located Hershel's past self, I wonder?"

"I could ask you the exact same thing. Haven't you got other places to be?"

Luke got the impression Dimitri was grinning. "You know... I almost feel sorry for you."

"Do tell," said Future Luke.

"You are familiar with chess terms, I believe."

"Yes, and...?"

The grin that no one could see but everyone knew was there grew larger.

"Check, Mr Triton."

Future Luke was unmoved. "Say what you want," he said, "but you don't have any idea of what _I've_ got planned."

"Oh?" said Dimitri, with a nasty chuckle. "There's nothing you _can _do to stop me, not when you have an entire country pitted against you. Allow me remind to you of a very important fact: your parents are still in my custody. I merely need to say the word and..." Dimitri made a _crrrk!_ sound.

Future Luke snorted, but gone was the playful air. In a flash, it had been replaced with an aura of blazing anger.

"You arrogant little snot," he snarled. "If I ever get my hands on you, I'll make you pay for everything you've done, I _swear_."

"Oh, my! Such aggression from our _intelligent_ resistance leader! And here I was about to give you a nice little clue to help you along."

"Keep your damned clue," said Future Luke, and he clicked the radio off. "Right, we're off," he said to his passengers, pulling his goggles back over his eyes.

"Luke..." said Layton.

Future Luke said nothing. Slowly, he edged the ship out from underneath the roof.

"Mum and Dad... he has them prisoner?" said Luke quietly.

"Yeah, he has them both." He seemed to be trying hard to keep his emotions under control, because some anger, though strained, had leaked through there; and now Luke understood why he had had that dark, revenge-filled air when they had first met...

_Mum..._ thought Luke. _Dad..._ He clenched his fists, and the sudden movement forced Polly, who had been perched on his shoulder, to shift positions. The bird took off and landed on his lap, peering up at him.

"PAIN IN THE ARSE, DIMITRI IS," he said.

"We need to stop him," said Luke.

"OF COURSE," said Polly. "HELP YOU, POLLY WILL. WORRY, ANIMAL SPEAKER MUST NOT."

They were moving higher, away from King's Cross, and north towards Camden Town. Luke tried his best to look backwards out of the window, and was very relieved to see that Dimitri's fleet was not following them; the large ships appeared to be heading east, towards the Angel.

"Is he really going to just let us go?" said Layton, frowning.

"There's nothing he can do," said Future Luke. "It's like he said, we're at an impasse. He has no way to find me, but there's no way I can beat him head on. It'd be crazy for me to attempt a full-on frontal assault. He knows that..."

"But what about your parents?" said Layton.

"I'm not worried about them. I'm more worried about what he's got planned. He's got a huge project that's scheduled to start tomorrow."

"The Infinity Project?" said Layton.

"You've certainly been doing your homework, Professor. Not that I expected anything less."

"But if you were to try anything, he may harm your parents," said Layton. "Isn't that what he was implying?"

"He doesn't have the guts," said Future Luke shortly. "He's all talk. He's just trying to needle me."

_It seems to have worked_... thought Luke.

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #? - ]**

\searching\

\searching\

\searching\

\time-error found\

\location: London Bridge\

\energy source: Stratford\

Descole looked up, glancing at the computer attached to his giant time-machine, in response to the beeping that indicated its task had been completed. A "time-error" - a punch through the dimensional walls - had been created. Infinity had been breached along the timeline, in eleven years' time, according to the readout.

Dimitri's underground research facility was in Stratford... So Dimitri had succeeded in finding a way through, after all.

He punched in letters on typewriter-like buttons: _is Project RL still running at time-error point?_

The gears of the machine hissed for a moment.

\checking\

\checking\

\affirmative\

\project RL exists along all points of time-axis up to time-error\

He typed: _possible to control RL remotely from here?_

\affirmative\

_Now_, thought Descole. _Now I will enter Infinity. And Dimitri will help me do it. Ha!_

**[ - ? - ]**

* * *

The doors to Layton's office were both imposing and impressive, much like the man himself. Ward walked through them, to see his boss sitting behind the desk with the smallest of smirks adorning his face.

"You summoned me, sir?" he said.

Layton nodded, and gestured for him to sit down. Immediately a Family thug appeared beside them, pouring a cup of tea from a teapot for them both. Ward wasn't particularly thirsty, but refusing a cup of tea with Layton was a big faux-pas.

Funny; it had only been a month since the wormhole incident at Piccadilly Circus, and here he was having a cup of tea with the most powerful man in Britain. Strange how things worked out.

"Tomorrow Dimitri's module will go online," said Layton. "In preparation for this gargartuan event, I would like you to accompany me on board the _Baryonyx_ this evening."

Ward raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason? Not that I have any qualms, but what exactly did you have in mind for me?"

"Dimitri... tires of my presence rather easily, unfortunately. I have no doubts about his loyalty, but I believe he would rather receive instructions from someone other than myself. You will act as our liaison and relay my plans to him so that we may co-ordinate our efforts."

"Understood. And the rebels?"

"The rebels," said Layton, "will fall."


	8. Rebels on the Heath

**Notes:** "Silver Blaze" is the name of my favourite Sherlock Holmes story. :)

* * *

**Chapter 8: Rebels on the Heath**

* * *

Because the stealth technology only worked if the ship was moving slowly, the flight north felt very drawn-out, especially since Future Luke didn't seem particularly predisposed towards any more discussion after his conversation with Dimitri. Fortunately, it wasn't long before Future Luke took the airship over another park, where he began to descend, and he landed at the bottom of a large hill, on a path surrounded by woodland. Here it was dark enough that he could deactivate the stealth (apparently it used a lot of energy), and the three of disembarked. Luke shivered, immediately noticing the difference in temperature.

"Little Luke, do you know where we are?" said Layton, as Luke watched Polly fly up towards one of the trees.

Luke shook his head. "No, Professor." Difficult to tell, in the dark. Indeed, Future Luke had pulled out some torches from one of his pockets, and had handed them each one.

"This is north London," said Layton. "Hampstead Heath."

"Ah, so this is Hampstead Heath," Luke said.

He'd heard of the place, but had never been to see it before. It was much bigger than the tiny park at Russell Square. The grasses by the path on the hill came up to Luke's knees - he could the crickets getting ready for their night songs - and there were miles of ancient woodland and great meadows; in fact, it was such a veritable haven for wildlife that Luke began to wonder why the professor had never taken him here before. In Hampstead Heath, you could imagine yourself to be in the middle of the countryside, rather than in the middle of a major capital city.

"Is Hampstead our next destination, Big Luke?" Layton asked. The area of Hampstead was to the south west of Hampstead Heath.

"No," said Future Luke, frowning a little. "Why?"

"You used to live in Hampstead, didn't you, Professor?" said Luke.

"Ah, that's right," said Future Luke. "Now I see. Did you want to see how it's turned out? It's very likely just like the rest of London."

"No, no..." said Layton.

Luke frowned in worry. For a moment, the professor had looked so... tired. "Are you all right, Professor?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Just remembering... old memories."

Luke glanced at his older self, who gave him an _I don't know what's up either, best to just drop it _look.

A crow cawed from high in the air, and flew down to the ground in front of Future Luke. He was practically impossible to spot in the dark, but he was certainly loud enough.

"Hey, boss!" he called.

"Ah! Well done for finding me, Baldrick," said Future Luke, bending down to push something on the bird's chest; and a light turned on. Now Luke could see that Baldrick was wearing a mini car headlight over his chest. He was the same carrion crow that had delivered Future Luke's second letter outside London Zoo.

"Why'd you leave the base? Were you worried about me, or something?"

"Just a bit," Baldrick responded, somewhat drily. "But I see you, er, found yourself, at least. HELLO." The greeting was directed at Layton, who was taken aback slightly, not accustomed to animals other than Polly talking to him directly.

"Er... hello," he said.

Future Luke smiled a little. "That's the only word he knows how to say in English," he said, "but he can understand quite a bit of English and he imitates a lot of songs. He's like a mini-radio."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Layton.

Baldrick flapped his wings a bit, and cawed in delight, and the intended message was clear: _the feeling is mutual_.

He hobbled on the floor, turning his black head to look up at Future Luke. "Boss, what happened?" he said. "I've been waiting for ages! Everyone's worried about you. You go and do stupid reckless things like going off on your own on a huge mission and turning your frigging radio off...!"

Future Luke didn't seem too troubled by the fact that he had apparently caused a lot of people to worry about him. "Ran into a bit of trouble with Dimitri," he said offhandedly, with a shrug of the shoulders, "had to maintain radio silence or he would have eventually been able to find me."

Baldrick made a harsh caw. "What was Dimitri doing all the way in Russell Square? He's got no business there. Did he find out about your plan to meet the past Layton there?"

"That's what I thought at first, too, but it turns out he was actually after our new friend up there," said Future Luke, pointing up towards the branches of a large tree.

"HELLO," said Polly, from somewhere within the tree. Luke was glad that he'd chosen to speak in English. He sometimes felt a bit sorry for the professor, who always had to wait patiently while he talked to any animal they would come across during the course of their investigations. It never seemed to bother Layton, though.

"POLLY'S NAME IS POLLY."

"Oh," said Baldrick. "It's you. The parrot."

"ME?" said Polly. He sounded somewhere between confused and annoyed, and he fluttered down to the ground, giving Baldrick a parrot's equivalent of a dagger-shooting glare. "WHAT ABOUT ME?"

"Er... nothing," said Baldrick, flapping up to perch on Future Luke's shoulder. "Forget I said anything."

"How many times do I have to say that the teleportation isn't my fault?" said Polly grumpily.

"Don't worry," said Future Luke, in English, "I'm taking you to our team of specialists right now to see if they can figure out what's going on with you."

"MORE SCIENTISTS, THAT MEANS. SCIENTISTS... LIKE DIMITRI. WHOOP-DE-DOO," said Polly, with fake enthusiasm.

"No, _not_ like Dimitri," said Future Luke firmly. "They're nice, I promise. I'll tell them to be extra careful with you. And there'll be food. Do bananas sound good?"

This seemed to have the effect of perking Polly right up; like most animals, Polly was instantly enticed by the mention of food. "YUP," he said. "HUNGRY, POLLY IS. LEAD THE WAY."

"Right," said Future Luke. "Off we go, then."

In the near darkness, and using the beams of light from their torches as guides, Layton and Luke followed Future Luke off the path, into the thick grass, soon becoming surrounded by thick woodland. Future Luke pointed his torch at one large tree in particular, and Baldrick flew up into this tree's branches.

"If you don't mind, I'll wait for you here, boss," said Baldrick.

"No problem. I'll give you a buzz when we're ready to return to base."

Baldrick cawed twice, and then settled into silence. Future Luke, meanwhile, pushed a button on a remote control; and suddenly Luke felt the ground underneath his feet shaking ever so slightly.

A secret compartment in the earth opened right underneath the roots of the tree, revealing stairs that led down into the depths. From his perch atop Luke's shoulder, Polly shuffled uneasily. As parrots were tree-dwellers, they liked being at the top of everything, where they could see food and predators, and so the idea of going underground didn't really appeal to Polly. Luke was able to calm him down by bringing up the bananas again, but the drive to find out who was causing his trips through space-time was, for Polly, also a compelling reason to go ahead; and so, with that in mind, they entered the hole.

A damp, thick smell filled Luke's nostrils as he followed both adults down the stairs, and his eyes slowly adjusted to the slightly orange hue coming from a couple of fluorescent lamps at the side of the staircase. The stone opening above them lurched shut with a grinding sound after they reached the bottom of the stairs, and Luke realised that there were a couple of men in the cavern, in the same overalls as Future Luke. It looked like they had been playing cards before they had been interrupted by the noise; there was a wooden table situated to one side of the cave.

One man was much shorter than the other, and, with his arms and rest of body not so tensed, he looked to be the calmer of the two. Despite the height difference, they had matching eyes and hair, with identical hairy eyebrows and moustaches to boot; Luke guessed that they were relatives, most likely brothers. They were both armed, and the concentrated expression in their eyes made Luke think that they looked like a pair of Doberman dogs guarding a house.

However, when they saw Future Luke, their aggressive expressions changed, cycling through relieved, angry and worried, before settling into a combination of the three.

"Bloody hellfire! There you are, you muppet!" said the tall guard. Without waiting for a response, he went on: "Why didn't you contact base before you left for Russell Square? WC1 was crawling with military Sharks! And Dimitri was still there!"

"Yeah, I know," said Future Luke, unfazed. "I spoke to him, actually. But old lionheart would have never have let me go in to recover the past professor by myself. He wouldn't have seen that this was the time to be covert and surreptitious, not to go in full guns blazing."

"I agree with him! What would have happened if you'd been captured?"

"I was prepared," said Future Luke, and his eyes glittered coldly.

"I don't doubt it," said the tall guard, with a grim frown.

"It's not like you, is all," said the other. "You usually plan ahead."

"I _did_ plan ahead," Future Luke maintained, keeping his cold glare fixed on them both. "It's just that those plans didn't include involving anyone else."

"Ffff! Stubborn as a mule, you are," said the tall guard.

"Ah, well... All's well that ends well," said the short guard, rubbing the back of his head. "He's back safe now, that's what matters. You're Layton from ten years ago?"

Layton nodded. "That's correct, sir."

Still frowning, Future Luke said, "We're heading to the time machine right now. Do tell them we're coming. And give home base a call, while you're at it."

"Righty-o," said the tall guard, with a careless wave; and he and his brother went back to the wooden table.

Future Luke gestured for Layton to follow, but Luke stayed where he was for a couple of moments, staring at his future self's back. His icy manner towards the guards had surprised him. At first, Luke had thought that the reason that he was so cross at times was because Dimitri had his parents hostage, but now he was beginning to think there was something else behind it. Because, even with his parents in danger, he knew that _he_ wouldn't take it out on someone else. That wasn't the gentlemanly thing to do...

He quickened his pace to catch up. There was a precipice at the edge of the cavern, and here Luke and Layton followed the adult Luke down a ladder that ended at the entrance to a rock tunnel. The tunnel was just about high enough for Layton's hat to not scrape the ceiling, and was wide enough for about three people.

Future Luke took up the lead and Layton and Luke walked side by side, behind him. They walked for a few paces, when Luke had a sudden thought and said, "Um... You're not going to get into trouble with your commanding officer, are you?"

"Ha!" said Future Luke. "I _am_ the commanding officer. I'm the leader of the resistance front here."

"Really?" said Luke.

Future Luke shrugged, as though it was no big deal. For Luke, though, it _was_ a big deal, because it only brought up more questions. How on earth did he ever manage to get caught up in something like this?

Layton said, "Dimitri referred to you as such in his transmission, did he not?"

Future Luke nodded. "I've been the official London leader for about three years now, but I've been fighting underground for a lot longer. Actually... Between you and me, those two may have been right..."

"How so?" said Layton.

Future Luke sighed. "In coming to find you, I may have... acted more rashly than my allies would have liked. I suppose it's because I really wanted to meet you in person, by myself. I wanted to make sure that you were the real Professor Layton." He paused, and then said in a quiet murmur: "When I saw you, I knew it was you. Of course, your temporal signature checks out - you _are_ ten years younger than my Layton - but I could tell just by looking. No one else would have. Except perhaps Flora. That's why I had to be the one to meet you, and no one else."

"A BLOODY NUISANCE YOU ARE, SOUNDS LIKE," said Polly, not quite within Future Luke's earshot.

"Hey...!" said Luke, feeling himself become defensive. His future self must have had a good reason for acting the way he did. "It's not like you're a shining example of good behaviour yourself, you know."

"TELL YOUR BIG SELF IN FRONT OF US THERE _NOT_ TO DRIVE LIKE A RAVING LUNATIC HIGH ON CRACK-A-LACK COCAINE, AND THEN TALK, WE SHALL."

Now Future Luke stopped abruptly, turning around with folded arms. "You're not one to mince words, are you?"

"TELL IT LIKE IT IS, POLLY DOES."

"But do you have to do it _all_ the time?"

"AN ANIMAL, POLLY IS. AN OUTSIDER, PEEKING INTO THE WORLD OF HUMANS, POLLY IS. IT MEANS THAT SOMETIMES POLLY SEES THINGS THAT HUMANS DO NOT. IF POLLY SEES SOMETHING IS WRONG, POLLY WILL SAY."

"Humph. Well... just be careful with what you say. Not everyone appreciates having their flaws laid out before them, you know."

"THIS POLLY KNOWS. GOOD IDEA TO SHARE THOUGHTS WITH ALL HUMANS, IT IS NOT. BUT POLLY KNOWS THAT ANIMAL SPEAKER IS A GOOD PERSON AT HEART; THUS, IF BEING FOOLISH ANIMAL SPEAKER IS, POLLY WILL SAY. BECAUSE KIND DEEP DOWN, ANIMAL SPEAKER IS. HATE TO SEE ANYTHING BAD HAPPEN, POLLY WOULD."

_Gosh_, thought Luke. _Does he really have that much faith in me? I wonder why?_

Indeed, with nothing appearing as a suitable rejoinder to Polly's words, Future Luke relented, and he made a quiet, if slightly reluctant sigh. Layton watched him very closely, with all the scrutiny he would use when scouring a new site for clues - clearly he was making his own conclusions.

In the resulting silence, Luke tilted his head, hearing a gushing sound from somewhere above.

"Is that running water?" he asked.

"Yes, that's the river Fleet," said Future Luke, starting to walk again. "Flows south towards the Thames. It's part of the old Victorian sewer system."

"I didn't know there were tunnels underground like this," said Luke.

"There are ancient caverns and tunnels underneath much of London, as it happens," said Future Luke. "Have you heard of them, Professor?"

"The formation of London Clay underneath London makes it relatively easy to bore underground tunnels at this level. In addition, there are several naturally occurring caverns, and one can find many fossils deep within - if one knows where to look."

"Ha, should have known better than to ask you a question like that." Future Luke wiggled his torch. "This particular network of tunnels and caves used to be a part of Descole's base, way back when. Just think, Professor: years ago, we struggled to keep tabs on his whereabouts, and all that time he was right under our nose."

"I can't imagine Descole being pleased with you taking over the place," said Layton. "How did you manage to wrest it away from him?"

"The base had been abandoned long before we took control of it. We don't know what happened to Descole, but it seems he and Dimitri were competition with each other for a while, and ultimately, with Layton's help, Dimitri was the victor."

"Competition?" said Luke.

"They were trying to see who could build a working time machine first," Future Luke explained. "Fortunately for us, Descole managed to complete his time machine before he was defeated, and we... well, once we found this place, we got it to work for us instead. It wasn't a complete walk in the park; we found a few of his old animal slaves still wearing the control devices, so we had to remove those first."

_Oh_, thought Luke. _Baldrick._ "Will we see any of the other animals?"

"If you like. We moved them to our main base, which is in another location entirely. A bit of a way from Hampstead Heath. But first we need to pay a visit to the time machine here. That's our priority right now."

That seemed to bring an end to the current discussion, and thus, onwards they walked. Though not steep, the path was continuously downhill, and so every step felt like they were heading deeper and deeper underground. They passed a few intersections, as well as several checkpoints with guards stationed at their posts, and after about 15 minutes of walking, came to a part of the tunnel where rough, irregular rock became uniform, smooth metal, with several doors leading off it; and finally, at the end of the corridor was a metal door, with a yellow key pad.

After Future Luke typed a code into the keypad, they passed through the door, into a rectangular chamber. The interior was in some ways similar to Cuthbert's lab, in that there were several gear-powered devices with bleeping modules crunching and grinding away on tables, though the room itself was quite substantially larger, and had something like nine or ten scientists working at the desks.

However, it was the airplane-sized cylindrical machine right at the back that was guaranteed to capture the immediate attention of anyone entering the chamber. The gargantuan contraption looked like a see-through battery, the inside of which exhibited several coils spiralling from one end to the other. The left end of the machine possessed a large clock face, while the right end was home to many different coloured buttons. It was contained within a thinly meshed metal cage, which in turn was within protective glass, and there were several pipes running to and from the enclosed area.

"That's Descole's time machine," said Layton. "And it uses... Is that a particle accelerator?"

"Spot on, Professor," said Future Luke.

"And... it truly works?" said Layton. "It doesn't seem very reliable, if you don't mind me saying."

"We don't use it very much," Future Luke admitted. "It was the cause of a wormhole that appeared a month ago at Piccadilly Circus, and that almost gave away our position. But the chief scientist assures me that was a one-off. Let's go to meet him, then you can see for yourself."

Future Luke guided them towards a slim man with a fluffy quiff of hair, and with tiny eyes sitting above a large nose. Though there was an air of frantic busyness with all the other scientists hard at work at their desks, he seemed to be rather calm amidst the chaos. He gave off the air of someone who had his head screwed on right. He looked up at them as they approached, and then took out up a C-shaped device, something like a coronet, from a compartment on his table.

"Ah, there you are, Luke," he said. "Thank goodness you managed to find the professor and your younger self. I hear you had a bit of a run in with Dimitri."

Future Luke looked away, glaring at the floor, and while Luke sympathised, at least where his parents were concerned, he couldn't help but wonder. Was it really that unusual to see Dimitri in central London?

"Yeah," Future Luke said. "Anyway... Professor, this is Horace. He's in charge of research here."

"Greetings," said Layton.

Horace nodded. "Right - well. Let's get straight down to business," he said. He held up the trinket in his hand. "This device will take a record of your temporal waves, if that's all right with you, Professor. All you have to do is put it on your head, and the computer will do the rest."

"What are temporal waves?" said Layton.

"Each person has a temporal 'fingerprint' stored within their memories, depending on how events within the timeline took place. By using this fingerprint, we can determine which timeline a person originates from, amongst other things. In particular, we can use the fingerprint as a template of events from a specific timeline and use the information to restore or repair broken timelines, at least in theory, anyway. In any case, we currently need your temporal waves as a reference point."

"I see..." said Layton. Although he was very good at keeping his thoughts concealed from others, Luke had come to recognise the current look on his face as quiet, suppressed scepticism, though the professor would be far too polite to say anything out loud. Layton was by nature a curious man; he would probably acquiesce to the request and take part anyway just to see what would happen next.

"Please, Professor," said Future Luke, apparently reaching the same conclusion as his younger self. "You'll have to trust me on this one. Dimitri plans to activate his project tomorrow, and your temporal waves are key to stopping him. That's why I brought you here. We need your help."

"Very well."

Layton fitted the coronet around his forehead, and sat down next to the desk. The device was linked to the computer. Once Horace had initiated the procedure, an image of a graph appeared on the computer screen, where an oscillating wave was being drawn across the graph in real time.

After five minutes, the procedure came to a stop, and Horace's face brightened with excitement; he looked like he'd discovered a cure for the common cold. "This is brilliant! This is exactly what we need!"

"Well, glad you think so. It's all Greek to me," said Future Luke, staring at the screen.

Luke agreed. The wave was quite jagged in some places, and in other places was curved. It pretty much went every which way. "It looks kind of crazy," he said.

"That's because you've been doing quite a bit of time travelling," said Horace. "I can tell where exactly you left you left your own time and entered ours, for example. But see here, where the wave goes up, and outside the y-axis? The wave just - cuts off. It goes up and beyond the realm of existence."

"_Beyond_ the realm of existence?" said Layton. "How is that possible?"

"Well... As impossible as it may sound, it would mean that you left space-time, and then returned. The wave comes back into the graph at this point here - that was when you returned to this timeline."

"Infinity," said Layton.

"Infinity?" said Horace. "What about it?"

"We were there," said Luke.

"But - that's - impossible!" said Horace. "And yet..." He glanced at the computer. "It would explain those readings... You'll have to tell me all about it when I've got a spare moment, Professor. I'd be most interested to hear any observations you have about it."

"Certainly," said Layton, smiling at the scientist's enthusiasm.

"But..." Luke frowned, and pointed at the screen. "Look. There's two of them. Places where the wave goes past the axis, I mean."

"The other cut-off point happened a while back," said Horace. "I would place it at a year ago from your present. Eleven years ago, from my point of view."

"Then that would imply that I've been to Infinity before," said Layton. "And a year ago, no less. How strange... I don't remember ever being there before."

"The timing of the first visit is crucial... I'll certainly look into that, as well. But in any case, I've got the data I need. Thank you so much for your co-operation, Professor."

"Pleasure," said Layton, taking off the coronet and standing up.

Horace faced Future Luke. "I'll start on the preparations right away, Luke. I've given you all a brief overview, but I'll need some time to properly analyse the data and implement it accordingly into the time machine. If you come back tomorrow we should be good to go, in plenty of time to stop Dimitri."

"That's excellent news. We'll see you tomorrow then," said Future Luke. He turned to leave and gestured for Layton and his younger self to follow, but Polly made a sharp squawk in the same way that a human clears their throat for attention, and he stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, crikey, almost forgot," Future Luke said. "Horace, could you get someone to take a look at this parrot?"

"Ah!" said Horace, eyes widening. "Is that _the_ parrot with the magnetic field?"

"_Goddammit_," said Polly.

"Don't worry, you can trust him," Future Luke whistled.

"Well," said Polly, "I trust you, so..." He shuffled across to the other side of Luke's shoulder, and looked up at Horace. "POLLY'S NAME IS POLLY. AWK. PLEASED TO MEETCHOO."

"Nice to meet you too, Polly," said Horace.

"He's a right firecracker," Future Luke warned, "so don't be surprised if you find yourselves having a conversation with him. And make sure you don't frighten him with all your instruments, he's a bit nervous. I promised him some food, so give him something to eat first."

"No worries," said Horace. "It'll be just like looking after Loki. My great-aunt has an African Grey who delights in confusing everyone who visits by deliberately imitating the sound of the doorbell."

"Ah; but Polly is no ordinary parrot," said Layton.

"YES, YES," said Polly. "TIME MACHINE SCIENTIST MUST FIX POLLY, PLEASE. TIRED OF TRAVELLING THROUGH TIME, POLLY IS. TIRED OF BEING CHASED BY DIMITRI, POLLY ALSO IS."

"Wow, you weren't kidding," said Horace, blinking in surprise. "You can actually understand English, Polly? You're not just mimicking, are you?"

"YES, YES. THAT'S RIGHT. UNDERSTAND LANGUAGE OF HUMANS, POLLY DOES. POLLY WANTS A BANANA."

"You sure you don't want a cracker?"

"NO, DAMMIT. NO CRACKERS. FED UP OF CRACKERS BEING SHOVED IN MY FACE BY DAMNED FOOL HUMANS, POLLY IS. A BANANA WILL DO, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. AS LONG AS YOU'RE OFFERING, A BIT OF BOILED CARROT WOULDN'T GO AMISS. CORN ON THE COB AND SOME SWEET POTATO WOULD BE NICE AS WELL."

"Right," said Horace, smiling. "I can already see you're going to liven things up around here. Well, we'll do what we can."

"THANK YOU."

* * *

With that, Polly was left in Horace's care, and the group made their way back through the underground caverns to the surface of Hampstead Heath, where Baldrick the crow was waiting patiently. They left the wooded enclosure, and made their way to the top of the fairly steep hill. Once they reached the summit, Luke could see a panoramic view of central London at dusk, a city of twinkling lights, covered by clouds and flying airships alike.

"Parliament Hill," said Layton. Again, Luke felt himself become a little worried for him. The professor's eyes were distant, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

Future Luke pushed yet another button on his remote, and like a ship out of fog, a silver airship came into view from the low-hanging clouds. It was twice the size of Dimitri's ship, and had the same basic shape as the military Sharks, with a large dorsal fin on the top, though its edges were smoother - more of a peaceful whale than a predatory shark. The wind picked up fiercely as it lowered down towards the hill and both Luke and Layton were forced to hold on to their hats.

"That's my ship, the _Silver Blaze_," said Future Luke.

_Crikey! Good thing this one's on our side_, thought Luke, as a retractable, metal ladder appeared on the ship's side.

They climbed up the ladder, entering the engine room. It was a room aptly named in that it was nothing but engine, with giant pistons chugging and cogwheels turning. There was a structure in the centre, made of four interlinking metal rings and Luke almost fancied it to be one of the professor's puzzles. Future Luke explained that it was part of the steam fusion power and generated a magnetic field, though as physics wasn't his forte, he didn't elaborate further, instead leading them up another ladder.

The inside of the airship felt like a train carriage on the Molentary Express. Each person had their own quarters, on either side of a corridor; and then there was a canteen section in the middle. The front was where all the technical gear was, and where the pilot, navigator, and radio officer sat.

As Future Luke guided them down the corridor, a large lady, who Luke could only describe as a chunky fat bear, ran up to his future self and put her arms around his neck.

"Flukey-poo!"

Future Luke did not look pleased _at all_. Apparently he was still in a sour mood and this chubby woman's over-enthusiastic greeting had done little to change that. "Let me go, Belle."

"We were all worried about you!" she said, playfully messing with his hair.

"I'm not a child," said Future Luke, successfully pulling himself out of her grip. He straightened his hair and then folded his arms. "I can take care of myself, dammit."

"Well I never!" said Belle. "Someone's a grumpy little sourpuss!" She pouted and looked away, locking eyes with Layton. She put a hand over her mouth. "Oh my...! You're..."

"Professor Layton, madam."

"But - you're the real Layton? From the past?"

"Oh, what do you think?" said Future Luke crossly. "Did you forget why I went to Russell Square in the first place? Why I sent those letters? Why we need the time machine?"

"But -" she started.

She was interrupted by the sound of one of the doors off the corridor opening; and both Layton and Luke stared as another Layton stormed through this door.

"Triton! You finally dared to show your face, did you?" said the new Layton, and he turned to Layton and Luke. "And I suppose you're from the past, are you?"

Both Layton and Luke gaped, and Luke thought: _Golly!_ _I wasn't expecting to see the future Professor Layton here!_

"You're..." Layton shook his head ever so slightly, frowning. "You're not me. Who are you?"

"Humph," said the other Layton. "There's no fooling you, is there?"

"Huh?" said Luke.

All became clear as the new Layton took off a disguise, to reveal Don Paolo. He frowned at Future Luke. "And after I went all the way to Dimitri's time machine to rescue that Clive brat! You'd better be grateful."

"How are they both?" said Future Luke.

"Talk to Flora about it," Don Paolo said gruffly. "I'm going down to the engine room." With that, he headed off down the corridor in the opposite direction.

"I can't believe it!" said Luke, after he had left the corridor. Don Paolo, Professor Layton's archenemy... here working together with Future Luke _and_ Future Flora? "You're working with Don Paolo?"

"He may be obnoxious," said Future Luke, "but he's also a genius. He invented the Photon Refractors for our small pods, so we're kind of indebted to him. Without those, we couldn't go sneaking around London so easily."

"_See_," said Belle to Future Luke, "I thought this Layton was Paul."

"Shouldn't you be at your post, instead of wandering around the ship corridors getting confused?" Future Luke countered, though not quite so harshly this time.

"We're on auto-pilot, thank you kindly," said Belle, with pursed lips. "But if you're in this much of a strop, I think I'll head back."

Luke watched her bound down the corridor. He wasn't really sure what she'd done to get on his future self's bad side, but maybe that was something to worry about at a later time.

Future Luke introduced them to a few more of the crew members, most of whom addressed him as "boss", or "sir", and at this point Luke really wasn't sure whether to be impressed or not. It was odd thinking of himself as the leader of a resistance group dedicated to saving London from the grip of a mad scientist - certainly not a future career he'd ever envisioned himself having.

They reached the flight deck at the front of the airship, where Belle was sitting at a console with lots of buttons, now wearing headphones; and there was a map of south-east England on a screen beside her, with a red line indicating their current course. From first impressions she had seemed to have a flighty nature, and thus, Luke hadn't expected her to be ship navigator, but - well. Appearances could be deceiving.

To the left of Belle was the pilot, who was sitting in the centre and had her back to them. She was slimmer than Belle, and had long, wavy brown hair. Like Belle and Future Luke, she was wearing the same brown-blue army style clothes. She must have heard them come in, because she turned around, and stood up.

"Oh!" said Layton.

"Emmy!" said Luke. Now this made sense to him: Layton's old assistant was adept at flying planes and, indeed, possessed excellent spatial awareness in general, and there were few people that Luke would trust more to fly an aircraft.

"Hello, Emmy," said Layton. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Too long, I fear," she said.

There was a blend of emotions on Emmy's face as she looked hard into the professor's eyes; Luke couldn't quite place them all. It was a strange mix of wariness, happiness and sadness. "Professor... It really _is_ you. The old you. By which I mean the young you."

Her expression completely changed when she turned her gaze to Luke; she instantly beamed. "And little Luke! Goodness me!"

"Yeah, I don't remember being quite so small," Future Luke said, with a wry grin.

"Hey!" said Luke. "I'm not that small!"

Emmy smirked at him. "Still apprentice number one?"

"Of course!" said Luke.

"That's nice. It..." She hesitated for a moment, averting her gaze to the ground, before looking up at them both with that strange, cheerless smile. "It really is good to see you both."

"It's good to see you too," said Layton. "I sincerely hope I can be of assistance."

"You will be, I'm sure of it. We'll be on our way to the main base, once we pick up Luke's Pod... Luke, I need to give you an update."

Future Luke nodded and faced Luke and Layton. "Why don't you two have something to eat in the canteen, recharge your batteries, and I'll meet you there in three quarters of an hour. Do you remember the way?"

Luke didn't, but Layton said, "Yes, I remember."

"Take Baldrick with you, just in case. You might fancy a walk around the ship."

"Aw, but I'm really hungry now," said Luke, whose stomach had begun to rumble again at the mention of food.

"Same old Luke," said Emmy, chuckling.

Layton and Luke left the cockpit area, and Luke said, "I wonder where Baldrick is?"

"Not to worry, I remember where the canteen is, Luke."

They continued onwards, when suddenly a loud voice boomed, echoing across the corridor.

"THE SOUND OF HOOF BEATS 'CROSS THE LAND! GOOD FOLK, LOCK UP YOUR SON AND DAUGHTER...!"

Luke and Layton exchanged glances. Someone was clearly in a very merry mood. There was a quiet _click click click_ sound, and they both watched as Baldrick hobbled out on the floor in front of them.

"BEWARE THE DEADLY FLASHING BLADE, UNLESS YOU WANT TO END UP SHORTER...!"

"It's you!" said Luke.

"Oh, er, sorry," said the crow, looking up. "Didn't mean to startle you. I like singing. That's my favourite song."

"Clearly," said Luke. "Want to come with us to the canteen?"

"Be delighted," said Baldrick.

* * *

After enjoying a full meal (Luke had ordered shepherd's pie) and taking a bit of a breather, Layton and Luke rejoined Future Luke, who took them to his quarters. It was a modest cabin, with a hard bed on one side, and a small table in the centre. His satchel, helmet and various bits and pieces lay strewn across the floor, which helped convince Luke more than ever that this young man was in fact him. Luke wasn't a naturally untidy person; it was just that tidying up required effort, and sometimes he couldn't be bothered to exert any on it when there were more important things to worry about. Though, they'd be in trouble if they hit any turbulence.

They sat around the small table, and Future Luke leaned forwards, forming a steeple with his hands. He seemed to be in a much better mood now than he was earlier; perhaps Emmy had given him some good news. "So..." he said. "What do you both think about London?"

"It's very... different," said Layton. "The new power source that has replaced gas and oil... At its core, it's nuclear fusion. I have observed numerous solar panels throughout the city, obviously installed to absorb energy directly from the Sun, but of course, the Sun is itself a natural fusion reactor."

"The best thing is that cars and buses can _fly_," said Luke. "If that's not awesome, I don't know what is. And all the cogs and gears in the buildings! It's almost like we're in another world!"

"It's like that over most of the United Kingdom," said Future Luke. "Ten years of investment into the sciences has made us the most technologically advanced country in the world. Have you figured out the problem with it all, though?"

"Dimitri," said Luke straight away. "He looks like he's got some serious control issues."

Future Luke snorted. "That's one way of putting it."

"Does he have the professor - the Prime Minister - under some kind of control?"

Future Luke shut his eyes briefly before opening them again. "Mmm... you're _almost_ there. You see, Dimitri is working with an evil genius - one who set into motion a terrible plan to put all of Britain under his control. Naturally, the general public are unaware of such deception on a grand scale."

_Evil genius?_ thought Luke. He obviously couldn't be talking about Don Paolo, so that left...

"Descole? Those scorpion robots look like his handiwork... and I bet he motorised all of London like that, right? And then there's the mind control devices we saw at the zoo..."

"Good guess," said Future Luke, smiling a little as he leaned back. "But also not quite true. What do you think, Professor? You're awfully quiet all of a sudden."

Layton's face was carefully neutral. "I honestly couldn't say..."

"Really? Well, I won't beat around the bush any more. It's you, Professor. The evil mastermind ruling all of Britain with an iron fist is you. You are the head of the Family. If anyone would order the death of my parents, it would be you, not Dimitri."

"I was afraid you were going to say that..."

The obligatory WHAT? from Luke was accompanied by a firm slam on the table. "I don't believe you!"

Future Luke didn't even flinch. "I don't blame you," he said, shrugging. "If I were you I wouldn't believe it either."

"But... you _are_ me," said Luke, blinking in confusion.

"Yes, I know... the physicists can probably explain all the temporal mechanics stuff better than me."

"Luke... Big Luke..." said Layton quietly, and it broke Luke's heart. He'd never heard the professor's voice sound so small. "How? Please, you must tell me. How did I come to power?"

Luke didn't want to hear any more. This couldn't possibly be true. It was as if something deep inside, an inner truth, dear and true, and close to his heart had been completely and utterly shattered. There was no way the professor could be evil! There had to be something else behind it, surely? But...

But the looks on both adults' faces were scary, especially Layton's, in that they looked like they completely believed it to be true. And Layton was never wrong about these things, was he? Every time he came to a conclusion, it was after spending a long time gathering evidence. Even when the person behind the scheming was _himself_.

It was all beginning to make sense now. That was why Future Luke was so angry, at times; why Emmy had reacted in the way she had, and perhaps even why Don Paolo had joined their ranks.

The cool, collected confidence; the blithe disregard for authority; the occasional flashes of cold anger... The reason behind Future Luke's erratic behaviour?

Future Layton was evil.

But how could this have happened?

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #4 - ]**

Dead.

Dead.

Descole was dead.

Layton stared at the body, unable to move. Dead by his sword.

All his prestige, his reputation, his standing among the academic community - destroyed in one moment of madness. Rationality hadn't just flown out the window. Rationality had been tied to a rocket and sent off to the outer realms of the universe, never to be seen again.

He looked at his hands, trembling. His anger was nowhere near abated, and it swallowed up the shock and the revulsion, becoming even stronger. Once unleashed, this ugly emotion was extremely difficult to contain. He clenched his fists.

_He had it coming_, he thought, scowling at Descole's prone form. _How dare he dishonour Claire's memory?_

Like a compass pointing to north, his thoughts swivelled, fixating on one specific point out of many that Dimitri had told him.

Bill had killed Claire. Bill had gone ahead and sold the energy source for an unbelievable amount of money. Bill had become _prime minister_.

Bill would pay.

**[ - 4 - ]**


	9. Rise to Power

**Chapter 9: Rise to Power**

* * *

"Where to begin?" said Future Luke. "I suppose... Yes, it was about eleven years ago, when the scientist called Dimitri Allen approached you. It wasn't until later that I found out he was a specialist in the field of time travel."

"Time travel..." said Layton, more to himself.

"I wonder if he had anything to do with that time machine presentation?" said Luke. "You know, the one we're supposed to go to in three weeks time?"

Layton nodded. "That's an interesting thought, Luke."

"Well, I never found out exactly what he discussed with you," Future Luke continued, "but there was something in his research that enticed you. You became... obsessed with it."

Future Luke paused, becoming tense, and uncomfortable. He had the deep, severe scowl that he'd shown when they had first met.

"Please, go on. I must know more," said Layton gently.

"You want to know more," Future Luke repeated in a harsh whisper, his eyes growing cold.

He stood up abruptly, pacing around; and then he glared, his expression flaring into an intense fury. "You want to know what happened? You... you left us, that's what happened!" He clenched his fists. "Do you know how broken up Flora was? Do you realise how _betrayed_ I felt?"

Layton looked like he didn't know what to say. "I... I'm sorry, Luke."

Future Luke made a growl-sigh. "You shouldn't be!" He sighed again in frustration, calming down. "I'm so sorry. That... that was uncalled for." He shook his head. "Goodness knows none of this is your fault, it's our fault for bringing you here. Obviously, it's not you I'm angry with. It's your alternate self."

"There's a difference?" said Luke.

Now Future Luke was the defensive one. "Of course there is! How could you even -!"

He slapped his forehead, and then sat back down, biting his lip. "Professor," he said softly, but firmly. "Do you remember that day when I was young, and I came home from school crying, because a couple of the other children made fun of me?"

Layton paused briefly while he remembered the incident in question. "Ah... You must mean the magpie? As I recall, they were teasing you for talking to the creature in the playground."

Luke nodded, smiling at the thought of the memory. "I remember! You told me to stop crying because 'true gentlemen don't cry'. And then you asked me to take you to the magpie's nest."

"But the really weird thing was that you'd never seen me talking to animals before," said Future Luke. "You believed it was true without even questioning it. I always appreciated that."

"I must confess there was an element of curiosity behind that gesture," Layton responded. "And imagine my delight when you talked the magpie into giving the head teacher's missing necklace back!"

"Professor," said Future Luke. "My father was too busy to even acknowledge my existence most days. You may not realise it, but that gesture... it meant everything to me."

"It's true," said Luke, trying hard not to be embarrassed when Layton smiled kindly at him. He looked down at the floor, and then suddenly got up out of the chair, and ran to hug Layton in the chest. Layton was taken by surprise, but he soon relaxed.

"I'm scared," said Luke. "I don't want us to stop being friends."

"Luke..." said Layton, ruffling his hair just like he used to when he was a little kid. "We'll find out what happened. I won't let it happen, I promise."

"Thanks, Professor," said Luke. Reluctantly, he let go, and took up his seat again.

Future Luke pointed a finger at both of them in turn. "Now - see that warm moment you just shared? Professor, you - your alternate self - you lost that warmth. I don't know what it was about Dimitri, but you... I don't know. You snapped. You became cold and uncaring - and obsessed with helping Dimitri with whatever it was he wanted.

"So..." He leaned an elbow on the table, putting one hand through his hair. "Let's see... You retired from teaching and pursued a career in politics. You forced me to return home... Coerced my father."

"Coerced...?" said Layton, more to himself. Luke was getting the impression that he'd already worked it all out and was simply asking for the sake of asking.

"Oh, no..." he said. How could this future had turned out so horribly wrong? What could have driven the professor to do such a thing?

"I didn't know that at the time, though," said Future Luke. "Before I found out the truth, I blamed my father, for the longest time, for forcing me to abandon you and go back home..." He looked down at the table, hanging his head for a few moments.

"Even from home," he said, "I tried many times to contact you, and Flora tried to dissuade you from whatever it was you had planned, Professor, but every time you either ignored us or refused to listen to reason. Eventually Flora gave up and moved back to St Mystere.

"All the time, as a politician you were heading research in the sciences, implementing new technologies that used cutting-edge renewable energies, all throughout Britain. Soon you became Minister for Science. You endorsed the manufacture of airships, of telecommunications towers, of power stations - all of which utilised the new power sources. By then I was suspicious, and I began gathering information on my own. And I formed an alliance with Don Paolo. Without his help we certainly wouldn't have half the gadgets we have now."

"Yes, I can see how having him on board would be a great boon," said Layton.

"With Don Paolo's help, we managed to chorale a few scientists to our cause, and we established a base deep underground. It was then that we discovered your true plans to take over Britain. Five years ago the previous prime minister resigned, and you took over. Ever since then, we've been fighting you, Professor."

"Hmm..." said Layton.

It could be very difficult to tell just what the professor was thinking sometimes, but it was always worth the wait.

At length, he said, "You say my future self met with Dimitri _eleven_ years ago? And yet we've only been sent forward ten years, correct?"

"That's right," said Future Luke.

"That would put the meeting with Dimitri at one year before my present time. Also correct?"

"Yes. It was a few weeks after the Pandora's Box case, as I recall."

"But _I_ didn't meet with a Dimitri Allen one year ago. I certainly don't have any wish to give up my job at the university. This one year where my future self... snapped, as it were, and drove you away... it is inconsistent with what happened to me."

"Good catch, Professor," said Future Luke, nodding his head to indicate that he was impressed. "It might interest you to know that you're from a different timeline altogether. The fact that you're still travelling around with your Luke proves this. You've 'hopped' from one timeline to another."

"Phew, that's a huge relief!" said Luke, feeling his spirits rise to bubbly heights. His faith had been duly restored. "I can't imagine the professor going into politics."

"Yes, I must admit to being reassured myself, if only slightly," said Layton.

"This future is not your future. Our Layton has a deep grudge against Bill, but somehow I think you don't. We'll know for sure when you meet him."

"Who's Bill?" said Luke.

"One of our time travel scientists," said Future Luke.

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #7 - ]**

_"Phase three of the renewable energy programme is set to begin today. The government programme will see London become the first city in the world to be powered only by renewable energy sources. In a statement from government officials, the brand new Airbuses have completed all tests to satisfaction and will slowly phase out traditional bus routes as soon as next month. At the Renewable Energy Facilities Headquarters in Beckton, scientists have been developing new technologies utilising a type of nuclear fusion to generate energy. The hope is that this will complement the solar-powered boilers already being trialled in some boroughs of London..."_

Prime Minister Bill Hawks sat at the back of his car, leafing through an old copy of the London Times, and he frowned in mild concern. He was due to have a press conference about the renewable energy tomorrow, but he wasn't worried about it in the slightest. He was very good at ad-libbing speeches on the spot. You just had to know how to put a bit of spin it. Light the fire inside people's hearts, know what makes them tick. If you were good enough at it, you could turn a disaster into an opportunity. Talking about a success like renewable energy - well, that was child's play.

It was the man on the front page that had him concerned.

Hershel Layton…

Minister of State for Universities and Science, and front page news, yet again. Not that Bill had any objections. He had to admit that yesterday's speech about how Britain was now "at the forefront of modern technology, the envy of countries all over the world" had been quite inspirational in its own right.

Layton certainly made the headlines often enough. The papers had been all over his proposals for the use of a new energy source to replace the fast dwindling North Sea gas and oil stores a couple of years ago; now almost every home ran on a combination of solar power and steam fusion. The Com Link Devices: another inspired move, capitalising on the fact that humans craved social interaction, and had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. To have your loved ones and all kinds of information easily accessible at the touch of a button - well, even Bill had to admit to the ingenuity behind Layton's actions there.

But it wasn't just his radical reforms and his work with science that had captured the heart of the British public. He was a man for the people. Even back when he had still been a scholar, the public had loved him for his hard work, determination, and ability to solve just about any problem with a calm stiff upper lip. He represented everything about Britain that was good about being British - definitely a positive thing for public opinion of government in general as far as Bill was concerned.

The thing that had been nagging Bill for a while... It was like an itch on the back that you couldn't quite reach. He was _sure_ he'd seen Layton somewhere before, a long time ago. Before he'd become so famous. He seemed to specifically remember the top hat. But he couldn't quite place where. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

He folded the paper, resolving not to think it any more for the time being. After all, he had to prepare for his statement tomorrow. He had his own public image to maintain.

That was when things began to go horribly wrong, because his bodyguard inexplicably reached over, covered his mouth with a cloth, and knocked him out cold.

**[ - - ]**

Bill groaned as he regained consciousness, and found himself restrained quite firmly to a wooden chair. He strained his neck, unable to move his hands. Some kind of… warehouse. Wooden furniture, beds, chairs, wardrobes, tables...

He continued to try to move his hands and legs, trying to see if he could at least move the chair along, when a voice from behind him frightened the hell out of him.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Mr Hawks."

Several men with firearms appeared (Police? What the bloody blue blind blazes were they doing, tying up their own prime minister?), but it was the one man who had spoken who stood out most of all. The man in the top hat.

"Hershel Layton? What the devil-? What's the meaning of this?"

"I should think the meaning is quite clear, but in case it isn't…"

Bill made a small gasp when Layton pulled out a gun of his own and pointed it straight at him.

This was absolutely crazy.

Layton was holding a handgun.

Never in the history of Modern English sentence formation did there exist a group of words that should never ever be found in the same sentence.

_Layton was holding a handgun._

It was so insane he had to say it out loud just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"A gun?"

Layton sighed, with an expression that wavered between exasperation and irritation. "Yes, Prime Minister. I sincerely hope I won't have to shoot you in the leg to prove that, yes, this is a gun I am holding, and yes, I am very serious about this."

No.

This was still too insane. Layton, using the threat of violence to intimidate him? His disbelief must have still been showing on his face, because Layton frowned ever so slightly.

"William Hawks," he said quietly. "I know your dark secret. How many lives have you ruined? How many people have you callously tossed aside, just to get to the top? A few bribes here, a few rigged votes there..."

"What's this? You intend to blackmail me? I didn't think you had the gall! But you're bluffing. You have nothing on me."

"Do you care to test me, Prime Minister? Me - Hershel Layton, who leaves no stone unturned, who uncovers every clue down to the tiniest detail, who solves any mystery in the blink of eye? Let me assure you: I would not be here with you right now if I was not completely certain of my conclusions."

Inwardly, Bill began to panic. It was common knowledge that Layton was a master crime-solver, but up until now he'd never thought that he would be on the receiving end of one of his so-called investigations.

He narrowed his eyes. He hadn't got to where he was by being stupid. "Name your price."

"I'm not after your money, Mr Hawks."

"Then what the hell _do_ you want?"

"What a tangled web we weave, Mr Hawks. You don't even know why you're here!"

Without missing a beat, Layton went on: "Let me tell you what you are going to do. At tomorrow's press conference, you are going to announce your resignation as prime minister. A vote for new leadership will be undertaken, but I think you'll find that there will be no opposition against me."

"That's... that's absurd! Is this some kind of joke? Do you think people will just simply allow you waltz in, no questions asked?"

"Oh dear. It would appear you still don't quite realise the severity of the situation. Allow me to enlighten you."

Layton snapped his fingers, and two police officers pulled a struggling figure into view.

Now Bill made a horrified noise. The sight of his wife, tied up and gagged, suddenly jerked him into cold, hard reality.

"Caroline...! What have you done to her?"

"Nothing... yet. However, her continued state of existence will very much depend on your willingness to co-operate."

There was no mistaking the threat there, and Bill glared back at his captor. What an outrageous thing to do. Did Layton seriously think he was going to get away with this? That he could just kill Caroline and no one would notice?

"You can't force me to do anything. I refuse to accede to any demands! Your political career is over, Layton!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, if I were you." Layton tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting with Caroline's. "Mrs Hawks... I daresay you were attracted to Bill not for the man himself, but for his glorious amounts of wealth."

Caroline made a sharp noise, indicating that she was severely offended; and Bill felt his temper rise to unimaginable heights.

"Layton...! I swear, when I get out of here, I'll make you wish you were never born! You're through! You hear me?"

As furious as he was, though, he still couldn't help thinking that this was all completely off-key. Wasn't Layton supposed to be chivalrous? A gentleman? Had that all been an elaborate charade?

Either way, Layton appeared to be unmoved by the outburst. He continued to address Caroline. "Has Bill ever told you _how_ he came to amass such wealth?"

"_I'm warning you!_"

"Contrary to what he would have everyone believe, his rise to power is in fact built upon coercion and corrupt dealings... which makes this quite the fun reversal, wouldn't you agree?"

Caroline was from high society and had likely never experienced a rough moment in her life; all throughout Layton's questioning she had looked absolutely terrified, with her eyes widened, and almost sobbing in distress. It was a miracle she hadn't fainted from the emotional stress. Now she shut her eyes, head bowed slightly. After a long moment she raised her head and glanced at Bill. It was a simple look, but a look was enough to convey her meaning.

_It's not true, is it?_

"Don't listen to him! He's lying, he's just trying to scare -"

_- Click -_

Bill cut himself off as Layton pressed the cold nuzzle of the gun against the left side of his head. He didn't dare move an inch, self-preservation taking over all other functions. Maybe Layton really had just gone insane, and that was all there was to it.

He felt the sweat trickle down his head, listened to Layton's soft breathing and to Carol's muffled whimpers. After a deliberate and drawn-out pause, Layton spoke gently to the both of them.

"Why don't you tell her how, fifteen years ago, you betrayed your best friend and sold both of your life's work, your dreams, for the princely sum of 1.4 million pounds...?"

While under severe pressure from the gun still pushed against his head, Bill was still able to think fast. Life's work plus fifteen years ago plus betrayal of best friend equalled Dimitri. Well, now things were making a little more sense, but only very slightly.

Dimitri... Humph. That idiot had been a fool to believe him. He'd been planning to sell off the energy source for the time machine from the start, simply because it was much better suited for a larger company that had the resources to fully develop it. They weren't going to get anywhere in a dull little lab in the backstreets of Hampstead.

In any case, Dimitri was the one with the grudge against him, not Layton. And he was certain he'd made it clear to Dimitri years ago what would happen to him if he tried to do anything foolish like press charges.

"Or," said Layton, his eyes turning cold, "about how you ordered your thugs to beat me to within an inch of my life?"

Surely Layton was mistaken. Before today, Bill had seen him as an asset; despite all else, he was a pioneer in British engineering, and famous as hell. A vicious attack of that calibre would draw the attention of the British press. Why the hell would he go and do a stupid thing like that?

Layton's icy tone was laced with a dangerous anger now. "Tell her how you _killed_ _Claire_."

Claire?

_Her? _

Bill knew that Dimitri had never forgiven him for that explosion, fifteen years ago. Her death had been a genuine accident, but Dimitri had never been able to let it go. A man that let his emotions get the better of him like that could never be a true scientist.

And yet the question remained. What was Layton's connection to all this? Why did he care about what had happened to that stupid wench of an assistant?

It hit him as suddenly as a stray bolt of lightning.

Of course…

Now he knew where he'd seen Layton before. Claire's busybody boyfriend… who had been trying to find out every inch of information on that explosion 15 years ago, silenced on his orders and left comatose in hospital for a month. Not that he'd cared. At that time it was far more important that the details about that day were covered up; and when he'd received his money, he'd stopped thinking about Layton, and completely forgotten.

Layton clearly _hadn't_ forgotten.

The fog of confusion had lifted; everything was crystal clear now. With that realisation came a leaden sense of dread and defeat. It was very likely that neither he nor Caroline were going to walk away from this unscathed.

"I... I see now. This is about revenge. But you're crazy, Layton, if you think you're going to get away with this."

Layton pulled his gun away and fired a shot across the depot, where the bullet struck the left door of a wardrobe. Bill and Caroline simultaneously flinched at the sound.

"Perhaps I want you dead, and I don't care about the consequences."

He glanced at Caroline.

"Or perhaps I want you to know what it feels like to watch helplessly while someone you love dies a very slow death."

Caroline began to struggle again. The scary thing was how calm Layton was while threatening to kill someone; he had somehow managed to reign in the menacing anger he'd shown earlier.

"Not that I know the extent of your true feelings towards your wife. Should I put those feelings to the test?"

Bill felt the bitter taste of bile in his mouth, and tried frantically to gulp it back down. "Y-you're crazy. You kill either of us, they'll lock you up."

"So you keep saying. But do you really think I would be here making such a brazen demand if I didn't have a plan in mind?"

He placed the gun back inside his black jacket, and slowly paced across the floor as he spoke. "Look around you: these police officers are your security team. Doesn't it strike you as odd that they would be following my orders?"

"The thought had occurred to me, yes..."

"Are you familiar with a man called Jean Descole?"

"I..."

_What?_

Bill hurriedly raced to find an answer. Was this a trick question? One of the man's infernal puzzles?

"Don't worry yourself. I'll explain." Layton paused briefly. "Descole was a very capable scientist, miles ahead of his time. We thought to borrow some of his technology, but at first we couldn't get the things to work. Human brains are quite a bit more complex, after all."

"Human brains?" Bill repeated, his own brain rapidly back on the path to confusion again.

Layton raised an index finger, as if Bill hadn't said anything. "And then we hit the jackpot: a compound formed from a hallucinogenic ore. It makes the brain highly susceptible to mental suggestion, so after incorporating very minute quantities of the compound into Descole's animal-controlling devices..."

He pulled out something metallic from his jacket: a Communications Link Device, one to be worn on the head. "...We came up with this. It alters the brain's chemistry in such a way that it removes the subject's free will whilst still keeping their personality intact."

"But... every person in Britain is wearing one of these..." Bill whispered, keenly aware of both the earpiece sitting on his own head and the coronet on Caroline's.

"Indeed. Every person in Britain," Layton repeated for emphasis. "All completely under my control, and blissfully unaware of it, too! Quite ingenious, wouldn't you say? Of course, we haven't activated your Com Link's 'hidden features' just yet. We were waiting for just the right moment to do so."

Bill was a tangled mess of emotions. Shock, horror, revulsion, fear, anger - so much came crashing down in the space of one second that he shuddered from the force of it all. He just couldn't believe Layton had gone so far. The Com Links were one of the first things that Layton had introduced when he had first become science minister. So, this plan had been going on for the last five years, at the very least, if not longer.

"You... you planned all this from the beginning, didn't you...? You going into politics, becoming Minister for Science - it was all a cover-up, wasn't it?"

He was treated to a sinister smile and a tip of the hat. "_Now_ you're beginning to see, Mr Hawks."

"But who are you working with? There is no way you could pull this off by yourself. Dimitri must be involved somehow."

"Dimitri?"

"Dammit, Layton! At least give me _some_ credit! I'm no fool."

Layton nodded in acknowledgement. "...Credit granted, Mr Hawks. You are correct."

"He's under your control too, then."

"Oh, no, absolutely not. We're partners in this little political chess game. In fact, the Com Link Devices were his design."

"But-but..."

Bill shook his head. He felt like there was still something else, something that he was missing, just out of reach. Why would Dimitri, of all people, consent to be a party to this madness? He could understand the grudge towards him personally; but fitting all of Britain with mind control devices? Dimitri was about as mild-mannered as a person could get - naive as hell, sure - but still, he ranked as the most peaceable person Bill had ever met. What had happened to him?

Had he really pushed his former friend over the edge with one threat too many?

"That... that can't be all there is to it," he said.

"And what makes you say that?"

"What are you and Dimitri planning?"

"Come now, I'm not going to reveal our plans just like that. I've said far too much already."

"You might as well just tell me. You're going to activate the Com Link on my head anyway, aren't you?"

"I might... I haven't decided yet." Layton paused, going into one of his famous thoughtful poses.

A shiver ran down Bill's spine again. How did the mind control even work? Would he be conscious during the process? Forced to do things against his will? Or would he have no conscious knowledge whatsoever, his will being manipulated into whatever Layton wished him to do? He wasn't sure which one was worse...

"While you're deciding, why not let Caroline go? It's me you want." He shut his eyes and sighed. "I'll do what you want willingly. Just... let her go."

Layton blinked in surprise, and he frowned, a harsh line of displeasure and a chilly gaze both indicating that the cold, menacing anger had returned in full force. "I think not. You still do not fully understand, do you? You don't realise the consequences of what you've done. Hardly surprising. You were never one to give a thought to anyone besides yourself."

"What's your point? Just get on and activate the mind-control already, dammit!"

"As you wish."

Layton took a step back and pulled out a tiny remote control, pushing a blue button on it. To Bill's horror, it was Caroline who made a pained face.

"Untie her."

The two officers holding Caroline obediently complied. She swayed from side to side slightly as she fell free, holding a hand to her head.

"Caroline, run!" It was a pointless shout, really, given that the police could have shot her down before she'd got very far, but both sanity and rationality had deigned to excuse themselves from the warehouse a long time ago.

She didn't react to the sound of her name, instead looking around her surroundings with half-lidded eyes. Now Bill began to sweat again. If she didn't even recognise him... How much of her remained? Had her memories been wiped?

"Carol!"

"I wouldn't waste my breath if I were you," said Layton, who was looking straight at her with a detached expression. "She won't listen to you. It is on a high setting, thus she will respond only to my commands. Normally... that is where we would end the process. However... if I increase the voltage, it becomes dangerously destructive to the neurons."

"You… can't!"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything," said Layton. "_You_ are." He pushed another button... and a fog filled inside Bill's mind.

It felt like... It felt like a heavy weight was over his eyes, as if he'd been drugged. He felt slowed, somehow. His reactions had been dulled.

Layton ordered a police officer to untie him. Bill tried desperately to make a lunge at the maniac, but... his body wouldn't comply. The message from his brain simply wasn't getting through to the rest of his body.

And then he heard Layton's voice inside his head: _Stand up_.

He stood up.

_Good. Now take the dial from me and twist it round slowly._

He complied obediently, and Caroline cried out and fell to her knees, grabbing her head in both hands. A dark chuckle resounded in his mind; but he couldn't even shudder.

Out loud, Layton said, "I'm sure you can imagine the brain tissue being broken down, molecule by molecule..."

Carol writhed about on the ground, howling in tortuous agony. And Layton was standing over her, staring with satisfied glee, enjoying every second of it.

Bill tried to move again. He couldn't watch this! But he was unable to look away, either. He was forced to watch.

The sound of Layton's laughter grew louder.

_Kill her_, he said.

Bill turned up the knob.

Caroline screamed.

And Layton laughed.

**[ - 7 - ]**


	10. Dimitri

**Chapter 10: Dimitri**

* * *

On board the _Silver Blaze_, Layton and Luke listened as Future Luke described Bill Hawks to them - the former prime minister who had suddenly resigned from his post without explanation.

"You say my alternate self has a grudge against him?" said Layton. "Whatever for?"

"Wish I knew," said Future Luke. "But even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. It might affect your timeline if you knew. Some things are better left undiscovered, Professor."

"Gosh," said Luke, "so you really did send that letter to me, then? Telling us to meet you at the Zoo?"

"Yes, of course," said Future Luke. "It was a little unorthodox, but we thought of using the Zoo as a point of reference for our wormhole. The Zoo is one of the few places in London that Layton hasn't changed. Unfortunately Dimitri caught wind of the plan and tried to sabotage your trip through time with his own temporal field.

"As if that wasn't bad enough, Polly – or whoever's controlling Polly – also decided to intervene, with the result that you both went backwards in time ten years instead. We were eventually able to stabilise your position and bring you forward to our time as planned. But Flora ended up in a different point in space, and she arrived two weeks before you did. Considering she could have appeared anywhere in the universe, it's a miracle she appeared in London at all."

"And where is Flora now?" said Layton, who sounded like he was dreading the answer.

"She had been captured by my Layton, but I sent someone to rescue her. We'll see her when we arrive at the base... which shouldn't be too long now."

As if on cue, Emmy's voice sounded on the PA system. "This is the pilot speaking. We're about to make our descent. Please ensure that your belongings are fully secure and that you are all seated. With seatbelts on tight. That means _you_, Luke Triton. Don't bother trying to get away with not putting away your things properly, because _I will know_."

"Heh, I have a bit of a reputation for forgetting to store things away," said Future Luke, bending down to gather his belongings. "At least I'm not as bad as you, Professor."

"Quite," said Layton.

* * *

Polly sat on one of the lab tables, having several wires attached to him, which were in turn connected both to a computer and to a large, cylindrical machine with metal coils within its centre. A scientist called Bill had taken over from Horace, a grumpy man with small-rimmed glasses. He was waving some kind of small, bleeping device over him.

The parrot jerked his head back and forth, finding it very difficult to relax. Being attached to all this equipment reminded him of a darker time, an old memory from a forgotten timeline, of electric shocks and excruciating pain and blackouts.

"Keep still, you feathered rat," Bill hissed.

Polly kept fidgeting. "JUST LIKE DIMITRI, YOU ARE," he said.

"You did _not_ just say that," said Bill, teeth grinding while he seethed with barely controlled rage. Apparently he had taken great offense at the comparison. "I am ten times the scientist he _ever_ was."

"I DID JUST SAY THAT," said Polly relentlessly. "DIMITRI. DIMITRI. YOU ARE DIMITRI."

"Right, that's it, you miserable little creature! Mind control for you!"

Polly wrenched himself away from the computer, snapping the wires; once free, he flew high into the air, flapping hard, until he reached a ledge near the ceiling, far from where the horrible scientist could reach him.

"Come back down here at once!"

"DIMITRI, DIMITRI!" screeched Polly.

At this point another scientist entered the lab, and Polly looked down to see who it was. It was Horace. Thank goodness. Polly liked him, at least. He was kind, and he had food. He knew how to deal with parrots. Unfortunately, Horace had been too busy with the time machine to spend much time with him.

"What on earth's going on?" said Horace. "What's all this about Dimitri?"

"DIMITRI!"

"What happened?" said Horace, frowning when he saw where Polly was. "Why is Polly all the way up there?"

"Bloody parrot's being uncooperative," Bill grumbled, folding his arms.

Horace raised an eyebrow. "I bet you antagonised him. Luke's orders were to treat him _kindly_."

"Oh, sod Luke!" snapped Bill. "I'm fed up of taking orders from that namby-pamby!"

Horace sighed, putting a hand on his head. "He's just a parrot, Bill... No need to get so fired up."

_What? _thought Polly, feeling insulted. Just a parrot? He'd show them. He was no ordinary parrot!

Bringing forth all the memories he could muster from the other timeline, he squawked to get the two scientists' attention, and then said:

"A PHOTON IS A PARTICLE OF ELECTROMAGNETIC ENERGY, WITH ZERO MASS AND NO ELECTRIC CHARGE. AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT, IT TRAVELS. POSSIBLE TO CREATE WORMHOLE IN FOURTH DIMENSION, IT IS, BY USING ELECTROMAGNETIC RADIATION TO ENLARGE ALREADY NATURALLY OCCURRING IMPERFECTIONS IN SPACE-TIME. TO ESTABLISH A NEW POINT IN SPACE-TIME, HUMAN THOUGHTS AND MEMORIES ARE USED."

"How could you possibly know this?" said Bill, flabbergasted.

"DIMITRI," said Polly.

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #8 - ]**

Time.

In the end, that's what it had all come down to.

Time.

Dimitri had dedicated his entire life to researching the many properties of Time. He wanted to know how the universe worked, why the atoms spun, why the gravitational forces worked the way they did. How could he use this knowledge to help people? Could he save lives? Extinguish world hunger? Such idealistic thoughts he had once possessed with a youthful passion were ones he used to have before his view on the world had turned so sour.

He stared down at the bar table, remembering his grandfather. He had passed away peacefully now, but while he was still alive and physically active, he had been a master clockmaker. The old man had been one of those permanently good-humoured people who was always smiling no matter how dire the situation, and what he lacked in height he certainly made up for in character. He had been often brought in to examine the clocks within the Palace of Westminster, which of course included London's most famous Clock Tower, otherwise known as Big Ben.

As a boy, Dimitri had often sat in the workshop watching in awe, as his grandfather tinkered with tiny gears using gentle, yet swift precision. He could recall the intricate instruments and tools that the elderly clock craftsman used, and he remembered, too, the godawful jokes that sprung forth from time to time, like, "Why did the woman smash her clock? Because she was killing time," and "Why did the lawyer sit on his watch? Because he wanted to be on time."

But what exactly WAS time?

Fast forward a good twenty years, and Dimitri had been taken on as a temporal physicist at the Institute of Polydimensional Research. Bill's field of expertise was with particle physics; and Claire, meanwhile, was well-versed in astrophysics. During the course of her independent study, she had proven the existence of universes outside their own, making her input valuable.

The objective of the project was to design and build the world's first time machine. And it was possible. Dimitri knew it could be done, at least in theory. The trouble was how to build something in the real world that, in theory, required an infinite amount of energy to work - and so that was how the research and experimenting began.

Things started off well enough. Although, in retrospect, they really should have chosen a less residential area, since the neighbours occasionally complained about odd experiences, such as disappearing objects, and minor instances of déjà vu that were more than just déjà vu. Of course, it only took one idiot to completely screw things up...

Bill... well, he was an accomplished scientist, there was no doubt about that, but in the aftermath of the accident it became painfully clear that he'd never followed the sciences to better all of humanity - not unless all of humanity happened to comprise himself. Without any regards to the risks involved, Bill had prematurely tried to open a live time travel wormhole, in the hopes of testing the energy source that could fuel such an operation. The end intention, of course, was to sell the energy source for an insane amount of money. Why Claire had volunteered to be the test subject, Dimitri still didn't know. He would likely never know. He didn't want to know. To think about her, and what she wanted to accomplish... it reminded him too much of that day.

That day...

...he had run and run, his lungs had been on fire...

...almost tripped on the stairs as he dashed up three steps at a time...

...had arrived at the lab too late...

...her face, never before so pale...

No.

He shook his head.

He was _not_ going to think about that dreadful day. Not again. Not this time.

He took another gulp of beer, taking note of the concerned eyebrow raise of the barman behind the counter.

_Oh,_ he thought. Now, there was another depressing thing to add to the list.

Com Links.

When Hershel had initially brought the design for mind control to him, Dimitri had seen the Com Links as necessary, simply because he didn't have any faith in the scientific community nor in the politics system, not after Bill had managed to weasel his way to the top. Any proposals for research into time travel would have been cut short before they'd even had a chance to leave the idea stage, and this was assuming he could keep such a plan hidden from Bill's watchful eyes.

Still, he didn't enjoy the idea of controlling a person's mind. In fact, he hated it with a passion. The very thought made him shudder. Every time he saw a person under the Com Link's influence - which was pretty much all the time - he had to remind himself why he was doing all this. He had to repeat to himself that he was only doing it all not just for Claire's sake but for the sake of saving humanity as a whole. He was too far along, now, anyway. No point in turning back now, not when he'd made so much progress.

He made sure that the effects of the Link system were not permanently damaging, and that the subject kept as much of their own personality and free will in every other area as possible, though he knew that Hershel had made his own adjustments on a few of the devices.

_Hershel…_ he thought suddenly.

There was a complicated man.

Dimitri simply hadn't foreseen Hershel shattering like glass when he'd delivered the news that Bill had been responsible for Claire's death. He had initially gone to Hershel for help in making a case against Bill. And he'd been expecting an extreme reaction – sorrow, anger - Dimitri himself had gone through the exact same thing, after all.

But Hershel's anger was not an irrational, brief minute of hot fiery rage. Instead, it was a cool, long-lasting, machinating anger, stewing on how to out-sneak a slippery snake like Bill. How to hit him where it hurt the most. Dimitri had approved… at least, at first. If anyone could beat Bill at his own game, it was Hershel Layton.

Five years on, they had struck, swift and precise, like the clockmaker, and removed Bill from power. Somehow Dimitri didn't feel as vindicated as he thought he would be. But what other choice had there been? The system was corrupt. Bill would have found a way to slither out of his crimes if they'd gone the honest route and approached the police.

That was his rationale, anyway. He hadn't done a very good job of convincing himself so far. Hence the empty glasses all over the table.

_Speak of the devil...!_

Dimitri didn't move one bit when he saw Hershel coming in through the entrance. As a general rule, Hershel didn't swagger, but there was definitely a self-satisfied air about him, and he strode in confidently, ordering people about as if he owned the place. Well, he was Prime Minister now, and this pub was completely under their control, so there _was_ a bit of logic behind the self-assuredness there. Even so, Dimitri couldn't find it in himself to share his colleague's enthusiasm, giving a half-hearted greeting in response to the one that he received.

Hershel sat down opposite him, and leaned forward on the table.

"Something's troubling you," he said.

Dimitri cast his eyes deliberately down towards the empty glasses in front of him and then stared back with a deadpan expression. "You're a genius, Hershel."

There was a double irony in that exchange, in that Hershel's genius mind troubled Dimitri very much. That inventiveness teetered somewhere between pure brilliance and absolute insanity. How could you just walk into a room and build a working vehicle from the room's contents as if putting together some kind of Lego set? That's not how physics worked!

Hershel made a noise that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. "Yes, I suppose I walked straight into that one. Perhaps I should be more direct and ask why it is you're sitting in an East End pub drowning your sorrows away on a Thursday afternoon. It's most unlike you, I must say."

Dimitri glanced away, frowning. "Did you have to kill his wife?"

"Oh, my... Found out about that, did you?"

Well, wasn't he being an arrogant so-and-so today? He wasn't even bothering to deny it.

And here was where the teetering mind came to a violent crash on the insane side of the spectrum. Hershel's need to make sense out of everything in the world had extended to trying to fit _people_ into a carefully constructed jigsaw, which in turn had manifested itself as an ugly desire to control absolutely everything. It was as if Insanity had taken Hershel's mind out for a joyride and had kicked out Compassion and Moral Ethics for being annoying "You can't do that!" backseat drivers.

Dimitri shook his head in disapproval. "I hate Bill as much as you do, but... Honestly. You should have kept her alive. He could still be trouble. You might as well just activate his Com Link permanently and be done with it."

"I'm surprised you didn't come with me the other night. You should have seen him when I revealed our plans. The look on his face was rather... _satisfying_."

"In my current state, I would probably have just... punched him in the face and left it at that."

"Really? After everything he's done? After everyone he's hurt?"

Dimitri shrugged. He did hate Bill, so very much. He hated Bill so much that earlier he'd just barely managed to stop himself from smashing an entire bottle into the wall, as well as smashing the chair just because it was there - _stupid chair, how dare it stand there dispassionately and not be broken_ - after remembering how Bill had threatened him into silence.

Before Hershel had taken over as Prime Minister, he had been planning to order the police to rough Bill up a bit. See how he liked being on the receiving end of several kicks to the ribs and head for once! But-

But...

Taking a person's life was too much. It was too far. Dimitri just didn't have it in him to take that final step; it completely went against what little moral fibre he had left. And now that Caroline was dead, he didn't feel like doing anything to Bill at all. It seemed a bit pointless, now. He wasn't even sure why Hershel had sought him out today. They rarely saw each other in person because they got on each other's nerves too much. Hershel had too much of a controlling streak for Dimitri to be able to tolerate him for long stretches of time, so these days their interactions were restricted to radio transmissions. Video at a stretch.

"I'm no psychologist," he said, "but somewhere in that genius mind of yours you've lost the ability to empathise with your fellow human beings."

He would have found the tiny smile that came as the response disturbingly creepy, if he wasn't used to its appearance by now.

"You're simply soft. You've never really had that killer instinct, have you?"

"I consider this a strength. I did not pursue physics to figure out a way to destroy people's brains one atom at a time. Even Descole - for all his experiments exploring the depths of human minds and their memories - even he didn't go that far."

"So I suppose manipulating people's brains at the atomic level so that they obey your every command is all right, hmm? As long as they don't die?"

"Of course it isn't! Ugh!"

Dimitri put a hand on his head, and leaned his elbow on the table. Over the years he'd learned that the best way to deal with this was actually to _not_ get angry; even so, he couldn't help but sigh in exasperation. It was, in a peculiar way, his fault that Hershel's behaviour was now so deplorable. If he hadn't approached him that day 6 years ago, they wouldn't be even having this conversation.

So that made this... what - number three? Number Three on the list of things that he wished hadn't happened but that he had had no choice but to follow through with. Along with Com Links and Bill's wife.

"What do you _want_, Hershel?" he growled, finally letting his impatience show. "As strange as it is that I'm sitting here, it's even stranger that you're here with me. As I recall, you're not much of a drinker either."

"I was just at the public unveiling of the brand new fusion station in Greenwich. I thought I'd stop by."

Dimitri tried very hard not to react too much to this comment. _So, _he thought,_ you came all the way from Greenwich just to "stop by" in a dingy pub in Whitechapel. Checking up on me had nothing to do with it._

He sat up straight, folded his arms, and gave Hershel a calm, steady look. "I am _not_ giving up on my research. We have five years left, Hershel. _Five_. If I have to slap a brain-controlling device on every last person to save this planet from its own stupidity, then so be it."

Hershel nodded slowly, still with that small, deliberate smile. "That's... good to hear." His expression turned serious as he placed both elbows on the table and steepled his hands, clasping his fingers together.

"As I just said, I paid a visit to the new plant at Greenwich this morning. We will be able to begin amassing energy from there within the week. You mentioned a way to permanently affix Time? Those other space-times?"

"Yes. Once we have enough energy, we will be able to establish a connection, but... there's a slight paradox in that the laws of physics seem to break down there. We could try opening a wormhole on our end, but there's no guarantee that the wormhole on the other end will be stable. But, that kind of obstacle has never stopped me before. In fact, I see it as a fresh challenge. I shall figure it out in due course."

"Of this I have no doubt. Obviously it will be extraordinarily easy for me to openly endorse the construction of new plants. If there is anything else you require for your research, do not hesitate to let me know."

"Of course," said Dimitri, with a slight tilt of his head.

Hershel pushed his chair backwards, and stood up. "Well. Given that you seem to be having a crisis of conscience, it's probably for the best that I don't reveal to you what I have planned for Bill."

"Do what you will. There's little point in trying to deter you from your plans."

Hershel gave him a very grave look. "I have him imprisoned on a blimp, outside. It will be your last chance to speak to him, should you wish to do so."

So. Hershel was going to kill him. That twisted Dimitri's emotions round and round in a way he never thought possible, as though someone was using a giant corkscrew on his gut. His rage and hatred mixed with his inability to be able to take another human life. Like a drop of black ink in clear water, hatred slowly permeated through, the desire for revenge pervading all else...

...but Claire would never have approved of it. Of any of this.

"Wait. Before you go, let me talk to him first."

Hershel nodded. "I thought you might want to speak with him."

They left the pub, and Dimitri immediately noticed several airships looming overhead, large state-of-the-art Destroyers from the RAF. Odd, given that they should have had the area under their control. Hershel was certainly taking this seriously.

He spotted the smaller prison blimp in amongst the military aircraft, and frowned. What would he even say to Bill? It wasn't as if talking to him would change anything between them.

He turned his head upon hearing the sound of high heels clacking from further down the street. It was coming from a middle-aged woman, with tiny glasses set on a large pointed nose. Dimitri recognised her face, which was framed by brown, wavy hair. He'd definitely seen her somewhere before... But where? He couldn't remember.

She took one look at them both and… glared daggers.

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear.

Not the correct response.

The few people that knew the truth about the Com Links were terrified of Hershel. If they didn't keep quiet in exchange for their own freedom, the Family would track them down and silence them permanently. Everyone else was conditioned to act normally in both Hershel's and his own presence, except when a direct order was issued. If she had just kept that nose of hers down and kept walking, she would have escaped their notice.

...Unless becoming angry _was_ her normal reaction to Hershel. But that was still unusual, because anyone who _didn't_ know the truth simply thought he was a fine, upstanding citizen.

Very suspicious.

"You... haven't Linked this woman, have you?" said Dimitri, silently hoping with all his heart that she would just turn around and go in the other direction. She didn't. She continued walking, on the other side of the road, now turning her head away to deliberately avoid looking at them.

"Obviously. She's been causing quite the stir in the press during the last couple of weeks." Hershel chuckled as if sharing a private joke. "Or, at least, she _thinks_ she has."

_The press. Hmm._ Maybe he'd seen her on TV. "She can't possibly know what's really happened to Bill?"

"No, of course not," said Hershel. "She would not still have her free will if she did know."

"I don't understand why you insist on playing these games. If she finds out the truth-"

"Lorna Wilde is no threat to us. But you're right. Perhaps it _is_ time I put her under our control."

"Good grief, that's not what I meant-"

Hershel cut across him and ordered a police officer to intercept her path. The officer did so, after which she turned back round to face them again; and now she was _really_ fuming. Dimitri felt like Hershel was purposely poking an already enraged bee and making it even more determined to sting... except that this bee was heading straight for a spider's trap.

She jerked her elbow away from the police officer as she came towards them, adjusting her glasses and straightening a couple of creases in her dress when she came to a stop in front of them both. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist. Well, out with it! None of that tip-toeing around the point that you seem to delight in doing."

"And a good afternoon to you, Doctor Wilde," Hershel said. His tone was pleasant, as though they were discussing the weather over a cup of tea. "I see you're still letting the accusations fly. You've called for a by-election?"

She pointed a furious finger at Hershel. In many regards, she was quite an intimidating woman, one of those swirling tornadoes of wrath you hoped you'd never come across. If she had been a schoolteacher instead of a doctor, then she would have been the strict, hard-as-nails teacher that no one ever dared question. All of this was despite her being half Hershel's size.

"Bill Hawks did not resign willingly, and I intend to prove it. I don't know how you managed to do it, Layton, but mark my words, I will expose you for the fraud you are."

"Excuse me, Doctor," said Dimitri, trying his best to keep his tone as polite as possible. "If I were you, I'd leave _right now_, while the going is good." He knew Hershel would be amused by his interruption; she certainly wasn't, and she pinned Dimitri with a sharp gaze.

"And just who are you supposed to be?"

He frowned and glanced at Hershel, who chuckled quietly. Well, at least one of them was having fun. Dimitri hated this sort of thing, which was why he'd let Hershel assume control of the Family.

_Dammit, I'm trying to save you without giving the game away. Maybe I should come right out and say it. _

He looked back at Lorna, trying to give off the impression that he was unimpressed.

"I'm someone who thinks it's not worth your time to argue here. You should get back to wherever it was you were going."

"I don't recall ever asking for your opinion on how I conduct my affairs."

He leaned back, folding his arms. Even if, by some miracle, she did manage to get away, there was nowhere for her in the country left to hide, let alone run.

"It was just some advice," he said, beginning to think that being grumpy was, in fact, her normal state of being, irrespective of whether Hershel was nearby or not. "You're under no obligation to take it, of course, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn me? I already know the truth about Layton! Several people do. I'm not afraid of Layton. Nor of you!"

"I'm sorry, but if you knew the truth - and I mean the _real_ truth - you would be afraid," said Dimitri.

"Excuse me? You don't intimidate me in the slightest, good sir!"

"I'm afraid he's right," Hershel said, taking a step towards her and reaching into his pocket. Dimitri knew her time was up. "You don't have a clue, frankly."

The officers went to either side of her and pulled her arms behind her, restricting her movement, and Dimitri thought: _Serves her right_. Instead of looking into Hershel's dealings, maybe she should have paid more attention to what Bill was doing behind closed doors.

"What do you think you're _doing_? I'll press charges, so help me!"

"Mmm... I think not," said Hershel, brandishing a Com Link with a mad smirk. Dimitri could see the change in her eyes, that instantaneous switch from offended outrage that told her to kick up a fuss, to a sense of dread that was suddenly telling her that something was really wrong here.

"A Com Link?" she said, staring up in bewilderment. "What?"

Quick as a flash, Hershel clip the device around her ear, and activated it by pushing a button on his remote.

"What is this? Ah, my head!"

Her eyes drooped, her gaze falling into a kind of trance-like state. This was a different kind of control setting. She was still consciously aware - but her higher motor functions had been taken over. Hershel demonstrated his command over her by ordering her to walk across the road, wave at them all, and then come right back.

He bent down in front of her, so that their eyes were level. "You see, my dear... I _control_ the courts. The police. The armed forces. The banks accumulating interest; the schools teaching impressionable young minds. The local councils; the media corporations. The power running throughout every single home and business in the United Kingdom. I control it _all_. And very shortly, I shall control you as well."

He pushed a button to deactivate the device, and she inhaled sharply as if scrambling for the last remnants of air before suffocating, staring at him in wide-eyed terror.

"However... my colleague here seems to want you to retain your free will, so I will give you one last chance to walk away. Provided you accept my dominion over the United Kingdom."

Her eyes shot daggers again. "I'll never submit to you."

"You really don't have a choice, now, do you?"

"Is that so?" She glanced at something beyond her, up in the sky. "Maybe I'm only here to distract you both."

The next few moments were a crazed mass of chaos. An enormous explosion rocked the area, so much that the ground beneath them shook; during the ensuing confusion, Lorna threw up a gas grenade. When the smoke cleared, Lorna had vanished, and the blimp which held Bill prisoner was already high above the buildings, climbing ever upwards.

Dimitri and Hershel were quickly ushered into an armoured airship, surrounded by special operations police forces. There was a TV screen inside the airship. The military aircraft in pursuit of the prison blimp attempted to fire at it, but their aim was terrible; they might as well have been trying to shoot clouds in the sky.

"A jamming signal," said Hershel. "It's interfering with the auto-aim..." He chuckled at the blimp, slowly flying away, becoming smaller and smaller on the screen. "Well played, Luke."

"_What?_" said Dimitri, utterly flabbergasted. "_Luke? _As in Luke Triton? Your former apprentice? He's behind this attack?"

"Yes. He's rallied some forces together to oppose us, and they have been planning to strike against us for some time now. And, I must say, I'm rather impressed. He's done well to keep himself hidden for this long, especially for one still so young. I still have no idea where the rebels' base is."

"But..." Dimitri shook his head. He couldn't see how Hershel could sit there and remain composed and 'gentlemanly' while the person he had sworn to get revenge on for so many years was getting away. "I don't understand. How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, I suspect it'll have been a couple of years, now. Plenty of time for them to acquire their own airships, I'd imagine."

The level of calm that Hershel was displaying was too much; in fact, it was bordering on arrogance, as if he didn't care one hoot what Luke and his rebellion was doing.

"And I suppose you knew about these rebels the whole time, did you?"

Hershel smirked broadly. "_Of course_ I did. Why do you think I came to this area with such a show of force? I believe their original plan for today was to kidnap you while your guard was down. I gave them Bill instead."

"You might have mentioned something earlier," said Dimitri sourly.

"And spoil the fun? I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist. The look on your face..."

Dimitri growled. "You...!" He gave Hershel a piercing look and pointed accusingly at him. "And I bet you could have stopped Luke if you really wanted to, couldn't you? This is all part of some grand master plan of yours."

"Yes. It shall not interfere with your progress on the Infinity Project, of that you can be certain."

_But you're never going to tell me what it is, are you? That would be far too simple, wouldn't it?_

Dimitri gave up. There really was no point in trying to talk sense to Hershel these days. "As long as that remains the case..."

He sighed, and leaned back into his chair, shutting his eyes for a moment. Hershel's madness was not doing his stress levels any favours. "...Well, it's as I said earlier. There's no point in me trying to stop you."

"And... you're all right with that?"

"Hershel. I am working to control _time_. Anything else is... inconsequential."

Hershel smiled one of his creepy small smiles. "I suppose it helps if one puts things in perspective."

He pushed a button on the intercom, ordering a cup of tea, while Dimitri looked out of the ship's window. It was true: if he was successful, then he was going to control time itself. So with that in mind, what on earth could Hershel's plan possibly be? What was Luke's part in all this?

_He's just playing another chess game_, he thought_. Another piece of the puzzle; another Lego block in place._

Bill had had six years. How long would Luke have before Hershel became bored and moved in for the kill?

**[ - 8 - ]**

* * *

**Author's notes: **

Miracle Mask came out in Europe last Friday, and it is a simply _amazing _game. I enjoyed it so much! It's put me in the mood to replay all the Layton games again from the beginning, which I'll do when I get some time.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I have the majority of the story completed (it's in "revision/final draft" phase) so there's no danger of the fic dying, but even so reviews do tend to give a me a kick up the bum - a reminder to get up off my arse and _bloody well_ _do those revisions to the next chapter already_. I was originally intending to have finished uploading all the chapters to this site by the time Miracle Mask came out, but real life events got in the way. Such is life, I suppose.

The next chapter is called: "Before the Storm" and features the return of Clive and Flora (hooray!).


	11. Before the Storm

An update! I know Rachey reviewed and wanted an update, and luckily I was (finally) able to finish the edit work for this chapter this very week, so here it is at last. :)

* * *

**Chapter 11: Before the Storm**

* * *

The ground rumbled and parted in two, sliding open to reveal an underground landing bay, and the Silver Blaze descended, docking alongside a fleet of smaller blimps. From here, Future Luke drove Luke and Layton around with his van-blimp. Future Luke's base turned out to be less like a base and more like an underground city, situated within what must have been the world's largest cavern. From his seat inside the blimp, Luke peered out of the window, watching semi-detached houses, shops displaying wares, lit up lampposts, metal dustbins and wooden benches go by as they flew through the paved streets.

By arcing his neck up, he could see hundreds of tiny, sparkling stars shining brilliantly across a dark blanket of sky. Normally Luke would have been awed by such a beautiful display, but instead he found it disconcerting, because they had to be quite deep underground. The "sky" display was probably formed using the same technology which allowed the small blimps to use the stealth. An elaborate illusion, then, but one that was likely very much welcomed by the inhabitants living underground with no access to true sunlight.

Luke couldn't see anybody out and about on the streets, but it was getting nearer to 9 o' clock. Future Luke informed them that it was for the best that the streets were empty; most of the civilians in the town didn't know about the plan to bring the past professor to the future, and there was every chance that Layton's appearance would cause a great deal of unnecessary panic.

Future Luke parked on the outskirts of the underground town, beside an iron gate in front of a red country cottage with a thatched roof and small square-shaped windows. The owner of the cottage came out into the garden to greet them, a short brown-haired lady in a long, beige summer dress, with a small, round face and tiny eyes showing somewhat subdued enthusiasm.

"This is Becky," said Future Luke. "She's offered some lodging space for you both for a couple of days, at my request."

"On the house," she added, flashing a smile, and flicking her long hair aside. "No need to worry about the expenses."

"Very much obliged, madam," said Layton.

"Oh, none of that 'madam' stuff, if you please. Becky will do. I do have my reputation as London's most famous and wondrous host to uphold, after all."

"You're both famous and wondrous, are you?" said Luke, in a tone that indicated he strongly believed otherwise.

"Yes, little man. For starters, I make a smashing breakfast. My house is kept spotless and tidy, as you're about to see; and I know how to tell a gripping story."

"All I'm interested in is the food, to be quite honest," said Luke.

"Luke...!" said Layton. "Mind your manners!"

"Um... sorry," he said. Sometimes his mouth took control before his brain really had a chance to think about an appropriate response, and now he was hoping that she hadn't taken offence.

But Becky seemed to take Luke's remark as a challenge. "You like your food, huh? Well, you just watch. I'll whip up the best supper this side of the river. Then we'll see who's got the last laugh."

"Honestly," said Future Luke. "You really shouldn't be so cheeky."

"W-what?!" said Luke. He was willing to accept admonishment from the professor, but not when it was from himself. "You're one to talk, Mr 'Flaunts Authority At Every Turn'!"

"Excuse me?" said Future Luke. "What would you know?"

"More than you, mate!"

Becky laughed, raising an eyebrow as both Lukes looked at her with equally angry expressions. "You're arguing with yourself. You do realise that, don't you?"

"Looks like fun," said Layton, with self-deprecating sarcasm. "I can't wait to meet my future self. I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," said Future Luke. "If we succeed in stopping Dimitri, we'll be able to use our time machine to go back into the past and put things right, once and for all."

"Even so," said Layton, "I find this current state of affairs to be most deplorable. I know I would certainly like to have some stern words with myself."

Future Luke sighed gently. "No offence, Professor, but I doubt he'd listen to reason – even if it was coming from you."

"That sure would be a sight to behold," said Becky, and her eyes lit up; she really did look like she was preparing to tell the most fantastical tale, a master storyteller mesmerizing their audience with a riveting tale of derring-do.

She made two fists and punched them together. "Two Professor Laytons going head to head. Brain against brain."

"Kinda scary, if you ask me," said Luke. What would the 'evil' professor be like?

Future Luke seemed quite keen to change the subject. "I need to go to the command centre and take care of a few last minute things before we launch the time machine tomorrow. This is where we part ways, for now. I'll be back for you tomorrow morning."

"What about Flora?" said Layton. "Is she all right? I'd like to see her, if I may..."

"It might be a bit late to see her... but... okay, I'll see what I can do. All right, then. I should be back here in about a couple of hours or so."

"Thank you," said Layton.

Once Future Luke left in his blimp, Becky immediately walked up to the sole oak tree in the garden and frowned at it.

_Huh?_ thought Luke. _What's she looking for?_

All was revealed when she folded her arms and said to the tree: "You can come out, now, Flora."

A lady wrapped in a decorative flowery shawl popped out from behind the tree. She was wearing sunglasses to hide her face.

"F-Flora?" said Luke. She was much taller, and had her hair tied in a ponytail coming down the right side of her face, but other than that, he could tell it was her, in the same way that he could see himself in his own future self. She was nervous.

"You were waiting for Luke to leave, weren't you?" said Becky.

Future Flora said nothing, and took her glasses off. Her eyes flickered back and forth between Luke and Layton, her behaviour showing an almost wild unease.

"Luke... he actually did it," she said quietly. "He brought you here." Suddenly, she pinned Layton with a hard, unforgiving stare. "Luke may trust you, but I certainly don't."

"Believe me," said Layton, "I am just as dedicated to putting a stop to my future self as everyone else here."

"I don't believe you," said Future Flora, clenching her fists, an apparent eleven years of festering revulsion suddenly erupting. "I hate you," she rasped. "I hate what you've become. I hate what you've done. I hate what you've forced me to do. I'll never trust you."

Layton took a small step back; he looked a little hurt. "Flora, I-"

She held an angry index finger up, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear it. I suggest you take a good look at this future, and see for yourself what you've done. This is what you'll become."

"That's ridiculous!" snapped Luke. "Our timeline is different to yours! Just because everything turned out rubbish here, doesn't mean you can blame my Professor Layton for it!"

This seemed to stop her in her tracks. She blinked in surprise, and turned around, with her back facing them, shaking her head. "Don't, Luke. Just... don't."

She ran off, one hand over her mouth, and Luke was quite sure he could hear quiet, but distressed sobbing.

_Crumbs, I didn't mean to upset her..._ thought Luke, frowning.

Becky waved a hand. "Oh, ignore her."

"Ignore her?!" said Luke. How could he ignore possibly Future Flora after seeing her run off like that?

"Well..." Becky stared thoughtfully in the direction that Future Flora had gone. "It was her inheritance money that allowed us to build this place. She took it kind of hard..."

_Oh, no..._ thought Luke. _That means all the robots in St Mystere must have been all shut down..._

"I see..." said Layton.

"Personally, I think she's just being selfish. She's not the only one who's been affected. We've all had to make sacrifices just to get to where we are now. We all did what we had to in order to survive. What's the point in moaning about it now? Far better to focus your energies in making things right. I mean, it's not like anyone forced her to cough up the dosh."

"With all due respect, mada - er, Becky... I'll have to disagree. There is a very good reason for Flora's actions," said Layton.

"Well, you'd probably know that better than I would," Becky admitted. "But you'll soon see your own Flora, won't you? So it doesn't matter what my Flora thinks of you, frankly. Anyway, enough about that. Why don't we all go inside? How does a nice cup of tea sound?"

"That... would be lovely," said Layton.

* * *

It was two hours later when Future Luke took both Layton and Luke to see Flora, at the site of a medical centre. Layton had thanked him profusely; he was quite concerned for Flora's possible state, and didn't want to delay in seeing her any longer.

They passed by the reception, and the clanking sound of Future Luke's boots echoed as he took them down a long, wide corridor. He nodded to a guard, who was sitting behind a desk at the end of the corridor, and the guard nodded back, typing something. There was a gleaming, metal door blocking their progress, with an electronic keypad connected to a set of large levers and gears.

"Right, I've let the doctor know you're here," said the guard after a pause.

"Thanks," said Future Luke. He walked up to the door, punching a key code. To either side of the door, cogwheels whirred into life, and the door slid open with a hiss.

"Is there a reason for all this security?" said Layton.

"You'll see," said Future Luke.

They walked through a much smaller corridor, with several rooms leading off from it, and after continuing for a couple of minutes entered room number 12. The walls inside were all white, giving it the clinical, almost detached feel of a hospital. The room also had two beds on the right-hand side, with light-green curtains hanging on either side of each bed. A small table with a yellow jug of water on it was situated in the middle of the two beds. There was an odd machine, with a small TV screen in the middle of it, hanging off the wall on the left side of the first bed.

Layton felt a spark of elation as his eyes fell upon the person lying in the second bed. Flora was all right! She was sitting up, head engrossed in a book entitled "Cooking Made Easy"; apparently it had been supplied to her to keep her entertained.

His first instinct was to walk over to her immediately and check to see how she was. However, there was a lady doctor opposite the first bed, tending to a boy roughly Luke's age and height, and since it seemed obvious that this doctor had had a hand in taking good care of Flora, it was appropriate to ask permission first.

The doctor was very short, and had a crooked nose upon which tiny, shiny spectacles sat. The boy was sitting on a metal fold-away chair, and she was attaching a peculiar device across his forehead.

Upon hearing their approach, she looked up, and started when she saw Layton, narrowing her eyes, and with a stern line of a frown coming across her face. She had the air of a bull in a meadow who would charge full-throttle with horns at the ready if threatened; definitely not someone to anger if you could help it.

"It's okay, Doctor," said Future Luke, holding up his hands. "Remember, I told you?"

She sighed, the movement of air making her fringe fly upwards. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Luke did explain everything to me... about the other timeline. You're still teaching at university in your timeline, aren't you?"

"Yes, that's right."

She remained sceptical, but at least she had lost the bull-in-the-meadow expression.

"Well," she said, after a pause, "this all must be very strange for you, Professor. I'm sure Luke's told you, but we've spent years fighting our Layton. Apologies, but I'm afraid it's a bit hard to change the reflex reaction when you look exactly like him."

"That's quite all right," said Layton.

"I'm Doctor Lorna Wilde," she said, "and this young man is Clive."

A boy? thought Layton. He recognised the name from his conversation with Dimitri. Why would Dimitri need a child? On the other hand... he couldn't help feeling that he'd seen this boy somewhere before. Maybe it was his uncanny resemblance to Luke that was throwing him off.

Clive peered out from behind Lorna. "Oh! You're the Prime Minister!"

"Oh, dear, no," said Layton, straight away.

He looked up with pleading eyes. "I'm not a criminal! You've gotta believe me!"

"Settle down, now, there's a good lad," said Lorna soothingly.

"Er... I believe you," said Layton.

"Phew..." said Clive. "You're not going to imprison me, are you, sir?"

"No, of course not," said Layton. "Wherever did you get that idea?"

"That scientist, Dimitri," said Clive.

"Ah," said Layton. "That explains a bit."

Future Luke frowned, and folded his arms. "Hmm," he said, mostly to himself, "I wonder what else Dimitri told him?"

"Actually," said Lorna, pulling a pen from her chest pocket, "this presents the perfect opportunity for a test. Professor, would you mind asking Clive to do something?"

"Pardon me?"

"Anything. Ask him to do a handstand or something. Hop on one foot."

"Hop on one foot?" said Layton, not quite liking where this was going. Was this going to result in the same odd behaviour he'd seen with Cuthbert?

"I'll do anything you say, sir!" said Clive, and without waiting for any more words, he started to hop about the room. The device on his forehead flashed a blue light, and Doctor Wilde scribbled something furiously into a notepad.

"Uh... okay..." said Luke, his head turning round to follow Clive's movements.

"You should have seen him when we first found him two weeks ago," said Future Luke. "He thought Emmy was his fairy godmother."

Flora turned the weird-o-meter up a notch by saying: "What can I do for you, Mr Prime Minister?"

Startled, Layton turned around, to see her smiling. "What? Flora, it's me. From your time."

"Don't be silly! I'll hop around the room too, if that's what you want!"

"Wha...?" Surely Flora knew that he wasn't the Layton of this time? She didn't seem herself. The real Flora would have made a fuss about being left alone. He wanted to hug her, to apologise for leaving her alone in this weird version of London, but he had a sinking feeling of dread, a feeling that the message wouldn't get through.

Luke had picked up on the strange behaviour as well. "What's... wrong with her? Why doesn't she recognise the professor?"

"Because," said Future Luke gravely, "her brain has been 'reprogrammed'. Clive too. They'll follow the professor's every command."

"You what? Reprogrammed?" said Luke.

Future Luke turned to Layton. "I won't ask you to do it, but if you asked Flora to reveal the secret of St Mystere, she would do so wholeheartedly."

"Of course I would!" said Flora brightly, and Layton tried not to cringe. It was unnatural, that smile. No one could be that happy, not even Flora. "The whole village is made up of robots," she said, "and the Reinhold fortune is accessed by pushing the Golden Apple on the -" Luke covered her mouth before she could say any more.

Layton almost fell over himself in his shock. He had suspected something of this nature - however, he had also hoped that his alternate self would not have gone so far as to brainwash Flora, too. But evidently Future Luke was right. Future Layton must have snapped, in this timeline, to do such a thing to poor Flora. No wonder Future Flora hated him so.

"This is... horrible..." he managed. Now he could see the reason for the high security; anyone under the influence of this mind control couldn't really be trusted to walk around by themselves.

"Hah!" said Doctor Wilde. "Glad you see it that way, at least."

"How could I... he...?"

"You're... Flora's guardian, aren't you?" she said.

"Yes..." His voice was strained, and he hated himself for not having the guts to look Lorna in the eye.

"Layton..." she said. "I can see you're genuinely worried about her."

Her soft tone was so at odds with the harsh greeting she'd given him earlier that he looked up. A kind, gentle expression shone straight through past her fierce exterior, and suddenly it was clear why she was a medical doctor. She was obviously a firm believer in helping people, and that came first and foremost before anything else.

"There's no need to worry. I've been keeping an eye on them here since they arrived, and I know they'll both be fine. Fortunately for them the setting appears to have been at the lowest possible. No permanent damage has been done."

Layton gave her a pointed look. "Fortunate... or deliberate?" he said.

"Who knows? I can't say I've ever understood your other self, Professor. But give these two another night. From what I've seen, it looks as though they'll be right as rain in the morning. With such a low setting it wears off naturally. Though, they may experience a mild headache. Now... it is late. I'd like to get Clive back to his room and off to bed, if I may, and then head for the hay myself."

"Yes. Of course, Doctor," said Layton. "Thank you."

"Let's head back, Professor," said Future Luke. "We all need rest for the big day tomorrow. Oh, and you might want to tell Clive to stop hopping, else he might never stop."

"I don't mind!" said Clive, though he did look like he was running out of steam.

* * *

Polly shifted positions, finding it difficult to sleep within the laboratory. His thoughts continually turned back to his days as a test subject inside Dimitri's lab, despite the fact that it had happened in a separate timeline.

Why could he still remember those days when he could simultaneously remember his days in this timeline as a free parrot after escaping from the pet store? It didn't make sense.

He became extremely agitated when he discovered that there was another reason why he was unable to sleep. There was another presence within him.

**Hello, Polly.**

_You! What do you want? 'Cause if you're planning on sending me halfway across the universe, you can forget it! Use somebody else!_

**I'm sorry for using your body as a vessel. But you were the only one I could reach.**

_Why me?_

**The reason is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. My guess is that it has to do with Dimitri's actions in the other timeline. You hail from that timeline, not this one. You probably gained some rather bizarre temporal properties long before I came into the picture.**

_Those bloody experiments! You'd better not be part of Dimitri's crew!_

**I am not with Dimitri. Far from it - his experiments have affected me as well. How else do you explain my own temporal abilities?**

_...Was it really that important to reach Layton, then?_

**We are talking about a complete breakdown of reality if I don't succeed.**

_Dimitri wouldn't be that foolish, would he?_

**What do you think?**

_Oh, balls. He's gonna do it, isn't he?_

**I must stop this breach into Infinity.**

_Why don't you teleport me into the future at the point just before it begins? Then Layton would be able to stop him directly, instead of you giving him all these weird-arse clues._

**I cannot get near Dimitri's Infinity module. It... affects me; it completely strips of my abilities. I already tried once, and - well, you saw the results. I lost the ability to communicate effectively. I could only communicate through images and select hidden memories.**

_Does that mean you've got your time-travelling powers back?_

**To a degree. They are only partially restored. You will not like it, but... it was Bill Hawks who restored them.**

_That whiny little man? I bet he didn't do it on purpose._

**I will need to borrow your body once more, I'm afraid.**

_And have Dimitri chasing me all over Russell Square again? You must be joking._

**He will not be able to find us now. You are still wearing the temporal signature suppressor. Besides, he has more important things to worry about.**

_Humph! Well, go ahead. At least you're asking for permission this time._

**I told you, my powers went askew.**

_Yeah, yeah… Go on, then. Do whatever you want._

**_..._**

_What's with the silent treatment all of a sudden?_

**I thought you would put up more resistance. You have been complaining non-stop ever since I first entered your body.**

_I'm not complaining because I don't like Bill and I want out of this laboratory. Where are we headed? And when?_

**To the Silver Blaze. Tomorrow morning. I believe that is both when and where your presence will be required.**

_No. Not tomorrow morning. Take us there right now so I can get some sleep before tomorrow. And teleport this sleeping tent while you're at it._

**Ah. Yes. I forgot. You need sleep...**

_And you don't?_

**Not as such... No.**

Who exactly are you?

**The answer to that will have to wait until I'm sure we have a chance for success. Until then, just think of me as your guide through time.**

_More weird-arse nonsense. Right. Just what I need..._

* * *

The next morning, Layton and Luke were treated to one of Becky's delicious breakfasts, after which they returned to the health centre courtesy of Becky's car-blimp. To Layton's immense relief, both Flora and Clive were much better, just as Doctor Wilde had predicted.

As Layton approached Flora's bed, she took one look at him - strange, how she seemed to instinctively know he was her Layton and not the future one without needing any verbal confirmation - and immediately rose to her feet, running to him with such eagerness that she practically headbutted herself into his chest.

He bent down, holding her close as she wrapped her arms around him. When Claire had died in that explosion, ten years ago, he made an internal promise to not let anyone get close, ever again. The truth was that he wasn't sure if his heart could take another deep cutting loss. But... had he gone too far in this timeline?

Is that what had happened to his future self? Had he cut himself off completely, so much that he no longer felt anything positive any more? Is this what would happen to him in his own future? It frightened him, shook his sense of self - his very core.

This one time... he would allow himself to get close. He hugged Flora firmly, and she settled into the embrace, nuzzling her head against him.

"Flora..." he whispered. "I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay," she said softly. "It wasn't you. I know it wasn't."

"No, it's not okay," said Layton, frowning. He pulled away, though he kept her at arm's reach, with his left arm still on her shoulder, and with his eyes locked on hers. "You had your free will taken from you. And I was the one who took it away."

"Professor," said Luke from behind, sterner than Layton had ever heard before. He stood up and faced the boy. It was startling how much he looked like his older self right now. His eyes were narrowed in that same way.

"She's right. Don't you remember what my future self said? Our timeline is different. You and I are still friends."

"Yes, but..." For how long?

Luke now looked severely offended; his cheeks flushed red. "Are you really questioning our friendship, Professor?"

"Of course not. We are friends, and I would very much like it to stay that way."

"You're nothing like your future self," said Flora, shaking her head. "I've met him, I should know. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about him that's not quite right. Different. He's not you, that much I can tell you."

Layton sighed. "I'm afraid I see more of myself in him than I'd like. But Luke," he said, raising a hand before the boy could object, "you are right. Feeling sorry for myself will not help matters. There is one difference. I believe my future self simply gave up. And I choose not to give up."

Layton next turned to Clive, who was still sitting on his bed. "I owe you the sincerest of apologies as well, my boy. What my future self did to you was reprehensible."

Clive shook his head, and stood up, joining the group. "Nah, s'okay. The Big Luke explained everything to us, that this is an alternate timeline. Your alternate self should be the one apologising." He paused, and then his gaze turned to Luke.

"So... er... you must be Flora's friend, right?"

"Yeah," said Luke. "You already met my older self, by the sounds of things..."

The two boys stared at one another for a moment, giving each other identical analytical looks; and then Clive folded his arms, going into a spectacular pout. "Well, colour me disappointed, Flora. I look nothing like him!"

"Huh?" said Luke. " 'Disappointed'? What have you been telling him, Flora?"

"Nothing!" she said, though the way she hid behind Layton seemed to indicate that she had been talking about Luke.

"Ah, now I understand," said Layton. "You two were posing as my niece and nephew, correct?"

"Eh? Now how on earth did you find out about that?" said Clive, awe creeping into his voice.

"He does that a lot," said Flora, somewhat shyly. "Figuring things out, I mean."

"But... we don't look that much alike," said Luke, frowning a little. "Do we?"

"Of course not!" said Clive. "Oh, wait... Speaking of figuring things out... That reminds me."

He took out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and handed it to Layton.

"I found this while I was running away from those gangsters. Um... Flora tells me you're good at solving puzzles... She said you'd know what to do with it."

Layton took a look at the piece of paper, which said:

G.. A..

F.. E. D.

G.. -1B. C.

A. -1B. F..

G...

"Interesting, if a little vague," he remarked. He still had the three parchments that he had gathered from the mysterious voice. Did those riddles have anything to do with this one?

"Puzzle from yourself to yourself, perhaps?" said Becky, speaking up.

"Very likely," said Layton. "According to Big Luke, my future self knew we were coming."

What did the letters mean? The dots? Some kind of special Morse code? Knowing his future self, it would make sense in due course.

"Less thought, more action," said Becky, snapping him out of his thoughts. "C'mon, we're running late. We need to leave now if we're going to meet Luke on time. We might see Max at the landing bay as well."

"Who is Max?" said Layton.

"Max Cunningham. Can't miss the guy," Becky said, pushing Layton gently out of the door. "There could be a hundred people in a crowd, and you'd spot him every time. C'mon, there'll be time for questions later. Chop, chop!"

* * *

The rebels' underground aviation bay was chock full of activity today, as people in blues and browns rushed about carrying boxes to and from different blimp-cars. Layton noted that Luke's silver airship was now not the only large "robot fish"; another finned ship adorned in blue and gold colourations had joined it.

In the centre of all the commotion, a giant of a man was bellowing orders. He could have been described as a human megaphone because his booming voice could be heard clearly over the din even without one.

"Max Cunningham, I presume?" said Layton.

"Told you you couldn't miss him," said Becky.

Max noticed the group, and came towards them with large, heavy strides. With a lion's mane of hair and a cheery disposition, he was a sort of young, brown-haired Father Christmas.

"Hey-ho!" he called, adjusting his goggles. "Here to see Luke, are you? They're nearly done at the time machine, and you lucky folks get to be the first to try it out!"

Layton didn't feel particularly lucky to have an evil twin running around carrying out unspeakable acts of horror, nor did he feel happy about being a potential guinea pig in what was sounding like a first time experiment, but as a gentleman he declined from saying as such.

"Is that your ship over there, sir?" he asked, pointing to the blue and gold airship.

"Oooh, yes. That certainly is mine, good sir. My pride and joy, she is! The _Blue Lightning_. Fast as fast can be and packs a right wallop!"

"She looks like a beautiful ship," said Layton.

"Thanks! My name's Max Cunningham, leader of the Brighton resistance force. Pleased to meet you all." The big man took everyone's hand in turn, shaking with far more force than was necessary; Layton, Clive and Luke all rubbed their hands gingerly, while Flora took one giant hand with both of hers to avoid the same fate.

"And look: there's our boy-wonder now," said Max, grinning.

Layton turned around, looking in the direction that Max had indicated, and saw Future Luke coming towards them through the crowd.

"No doubt he'll give me another speech like the one last night," said Max.

"He's just worried about the whole thing," said Becky. "Our success all hinges on whether we can get this time machine to do what it's supposed to."

"Brace yourselves, nonetheless," said Max, winking at the group.

Future Luke did indeed look rather stressed; his eyes were tired and sagging. Nonetheless, he appeared to be full of enough energy to chastise Max as soon as he arrived.

"I still don't think you should go, Max," he said straight away.

"Still? If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. I won't be swayed from my decision! You might be able to boss around everyone else around here but you're not my boss!"

"That doesn't give you the right to act like a jackass!"

"After the stunt you pulled yesterday you're lucky I don't give you a whack behind the ears, boy!"

Future Luke rolled his eyes. "It's not you I'm worried about."

"Fffff. Layton doesn't know we've refined the stealth technology on the _Blue Lightning_."

"He's no fool," snapped Future Luke, apparently angered by Max's lack of concern. "He'll be expecting us there!"

"Come, come now. Give me a little credit," said Max. "I'm not an idiot either, I'll have you know. I won't attack him head on, that would be suicide. On any other day, I wouldn't even bother trying to go near him. But today we have to know where he is. And, unfortunately, that means getting up close."

Max waved his arms around animatedly to emphasise his point. "We're losing too many pigeons to the jet-sprays; he's using those effective disruptors for our scout robots; and just a couple of minutes ago he erected a new jamming signal around his fleet which'll take another couple of hours to decipher, by which time we'll have lost his location. He's not taking any chances, that's for sure. In fact, he could be heading right for us here and we wouldn't know until it was too late to do anything about it.

"I don't know about you, Luke, but I get the impression that Dimitri's Infinity Project is the least of our worries."

"We're in agreement there." Future Luke gritted his teeth, as if reluctantly coming to a decision. "Just... be careful, Max. If there's any trouble, you get straight out of there, hear?"

"Ha!" Max boomed. "You telling me to be careful. That's a new one!" Max's bouncy expression bounced into a chasm of seriousness. "I wish you the best of luck, Luke. See you on the other side."

"Same to you, Max."

"Right, off I go! Hey-ho!" he bellowed, so loud that it almost seemed as though he would break into operatic singing at any moment. He looked back to wave at the group whilst still walking away. " 'Twas nice to meet you all!"

"Bye!" Flora called.

"He's a cheerful bloke," said Luke.

"Yeah... sorry you had to see that," said Future Luke. "We don't always see eye to eye, Max and I, but he's a good man. I'd trust him with my life. We'd better get going, at any rate. Ready for the time machine?"

_Not really_, thought Layton, but out loud he said, "Let's go."

Clive said, "I'm not ready. At all." He looked at everyone else in quick succession with a troubled expression on his face. "But we have to... to do this, right? To stop the bad Layton."

"Is something the matter?" said Flora.

"No," said Clive quickly. "I'm a bit nervous about the time-travelling, I guess."

"You'll be fine," said Future Luke. "You'll be back in your own time before you know it."

"That's... kind of the problem," said Clive.

Layton watched as the boy's brow furrowed into worry, and Flora put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. There it was again, Layton realised. That feeling that he'd met Clive somewhere before.

But where?

It was this question that tugged at Layton's mind as he and the others followed Future Luke up the ramp and into the _Silver Blaze_. Why was Clive so reluctant to go back to his time? Did it have something to do with what the mysterious voice wanted Layton to do?

Layton wasn't sure.

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #11 - ]**

"I really don't understand you sometimes," said Dimitri, speaking into a radio transceiver. He was currently on board his ship, the _Antares_, making final preparations for tomorrow. Hershel was on the other end of the line, on board his own ship. "You're _pleased_ that Clive and Flora got away? Luke has them both, doesn't he? That indicates a severe security breach on our part, and yet you make it sound as though it's nothing. Please explain your reasoning."

"Perhaps I simply made it easy for Luke."

Dimitri rubbed his temples, before rubbing his eyes. He hadn't got any sleep last night, what with his nerves being so high-strung the day before his big project was set to go online. As such, he wasn't feeling particularly patient today, and his patience was never much good on the best of days when it came to dealing with all things Hershel.

"Are you saying, Hershel, that the rescue was part of your plan?"

"Not exactly, but I had considered the possibility. I removed certain... obstacles."

"Is there any point in me asking you why you did such a thing?"

"Why are you so concerned? I thought you had extracted all the data you needed from Clive?"

"And then some," said Dimitri. _In the other timeline, Clive builds a massive fortress and sets about destroying London… and he tricks me into helping him do it._

"So what is the problem?"

_Deep breaths,_ thought Dimitri, shutting his eyes and rubbing his face this time. _Mustn't lose temper..._

"The problem is that Luke has access to a time machine as well -"

"-Which he can only use both ways reliably once your Infinity module goes live."

This was very true. Descole's time machine could only travel forwards and down the stream of time without any problems. Going back upstream to the past was possible, but it needed an established link to Infinity in order to create a wormhole that would last more than two seconds, and Descole hadn't got far enough in his research to be able to create one. He wondered how Luke was going to get round this, and then wondered what Hershel had planned to counter it. There _would_ be a plan, of course.

"I just wish you'd tell me what you were up to once in a while," said Dimitri. "For my peace of mind."

"And ruin the surprise?"

"Yes," said Dimitri bluntly.

Hershel chuckled. "If it preys on your mind so much, perhaps it is time I let you in on a few things. After all, we will need to co-ordinate our efforts if we are to succeed."

Dimitri let out a sigh. "Finally..." he said.

Hershel said, "I will send someone right away. Have you met a man called Ward?"

**[ - 11 - ]**

* * *

**Author's stuff:** So, chronic illness always makes things difficult whenever it rears its ugly head and the last five months have been pretty crappy as a result. I can't promise anything concrete because every time I do it blows up in my face, but I am doing the final edits (which I'd planned to do last year - go figure) for chapters 12 and 13 as quickly as possible this week while I'm well again and have the chance. Fingers crossed I can get them out in a timely fashion.

Next chapter is called "Into the Eye". In which Layton figures out the whole truth. :)


	12. Into the Eye

**Chapter 12: Into the Eye**

* * *

With Emmy piloting, the _Silver Blaze_ rose up out of the ground, turning around to head south. Layton watched the ascent from the cockpit, sitting behind Emmy and her co-pilot Belle, and beside Future Luke. He briefly wondered how the children were doing.

Clive and the younger Luke had been set a task by Future Luke, and were with both Baldrick and Polly (who had appeared on the ship, apparently having regained the ability to teleport). Meanwhile, Flora had gone to talk to her future self, who was on board in the engine room for this trip. Layton was relieved that they were all travelling together at last, but now that he had had a bit more time to think about it, he couldn't shake the rather uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong. Surely his future self would have had some kind of contigency plan in place for Flora and Clive's escape? Because that was what _he_ would have done.

Declining a chocolate éclair from Belle ("More for me!" she declared happily), Layton turned his attention to Future Luke. The young man had his chin leaning on one hand while he stared quietly out the window.

"There's one thing troubling me, Luke," said Layton.

Future Luke turned his head round to face him. "Only one?"

"Well - yes. Indeed. One of many things. But this particular point..."

"Go on," said Future Luke.

"When it comes to London's topography, I am very knowledgeable indeed. Would my future self not have knowledge of these underground caverns as well? If so, why has he not tried to attack?"

"He knows about them. It's just that he doesn't think there's anything inside them. The cloaking devices see to that. They work fine on stationary objects irrespective of size, so an underground complex is no problem. It's when the object moves that cloaking becomes a problem."

"You cannot use them on the larger airships..."

"Yes, with one exception. Max's airship has an advanced photon refractor. But it eats up a lot of energy, so he can't use it for protracted periods of time."

"Descole's time machine..." said Layton, after a pause. "Presumably my future self would find it very valuable..."

"Yes," said Future Luke, "that's why we couldn't bring you there directly. Even though we have a cloak around the compound, he and Dimitri would have eventually been able to trace the wormhole to that point. It's the same reason we can't use radio transmissions for very long, because they give our position away."

"How will the time travel procedure work?"

"It'll be easier to explain once we're there. The physicists will guide you through the process."

Emmy joined the conversation. "You _are_ willing to help us, aren't you, Professor?"

"I suppose I don't really have a choice," said Layton.

"But you've got to!" she insisted. "Who else would be gentlemanly enough to take on such a task?"

Despite himself, Layton smiled. Emmy had a way of being persuasive without being completely overbearing; her endless optimism and enthusiasm were matched only by that of Flora's.

"Not to worry. After everything I've heard about my alternate self, I cannot simply leave things as they are. That is what I meant."

"Good to hear, Professor. I knew we could count on you," said Emmy.

"Of course we can," said Future Luke. "This _is_ the old Professor Layton, after all."

"Righto," said Emmy, punching the air with an excited fist. "Full speed ahead!"

* * *

Pistons were grinding and screeching all around Flora as she walked forwards, through the engine room. There was a lot of noise and movement, but she could see her future self crouched down on the metal floor, tending to a broken cogwheel. Wondering when her older self had learned to pick up mechanical craftsmanship, she became very nervous as she came to a stop. She wasn't even sure why she was here. She felt she owed it to this Flora, for some inexplicable reason, to tell her that her Layton wasn't evil, despite what the Layton in this timeline had done to her.

"Um, hello..."

Future Flora didn't look up. "What do you want? I'm in the middle of something here."

Undaunted by Future Flora's lack of interest, Flora pushed on. "You saved me, didn't you? You rescued me from that recovery centre place."

"Yes. So?"

"So... I wanted to thank you."

Future Flora stopped her work and stood up, and Flora realised just how much she'd grown in the past ten years. How could she have changed so much? Gone was the cheery disposition, to be replaced by hardened, jaded eyes.

"You're still living with the professor, aren't you?"

"Yes, that's right," said Flora.

"Enjoy it while it lasts. It's only a matter of time before he betrays you too."

"The professor would never do something like that!"

"Never say never," said Future Flora coldly. "You only have to look at what he did to you to see just what kind of man he really is."

"Okay," said Flora, who knew that she could be a stubborn pain in the backside when there was a point she wanted to prove. "Let me rephrase that. _My_ professor would never do something like that. It's not his fault all this has happened, so quit blaming him!"

To her surprise, Future Flora's cold mask cracked, and then shattered. Tears began to streak down her face.

"I know..." she said, sniffling while placing hands over her face. "Your Luke told me the same thing. Deep down I know your professor is the old professor that used to care. That's why it hurts so much. I've been fighting my Layton for so long I've almost forgotten what that feels like... I was so angry and jealous of you, and your Layton was an easy target..."

"You know that he'll understand," said Flora gently. "He's horrified by what his alternate self has done, you know."

Future Flora sniffled again, and she wiped her face with one hand to dry the tears. "I miss him so much, though. I always wondered whether it was something I did. Was I the one to drive him away?"

"You shouldn't blame yourself," said Flora. "My Layton... he'll fix things. You'll see. Maybe you can even come and visit us in our timeline sometime!"

Future Flora smiled, though it was a smile tinged with sadness. "I remember when I had your boundless optimism. I'm glad at least one of us still has it."

"I'll just have to be doubly cheerful for the both of us, then!"

"Thank you. I'm sorry I was so harsh earlier." She sat back down. "You'd better get back upstairs. I really need to finish this. And... thanks for coming. It was nice to talk to you."

"You too," said Flora. She didn't know what she'd do if her Layton ever turned evil. Actually she did know; her future self had just shown her. She was glad to see that Future Flora hadn't completely lost her emotions in spite of everything that had happened.

"Um... one thing before I go..."

"Yes?"

"Promise me you won't lose hope. I don't think I could bear to see that."

Future Flora smiled again, and this time it was a warm smile. "Okay," she said. "I promise."

* * *

Clive and Luke were inside Future Luke's cabin, with both Polly and Baldrick sitting next to each other on the small table in the middle. Luke tied a small device around Polly's chest, one of two devices which Future Luke had given to him to try out on the two birds.

"THIS, WHAT IS?" said Polly. "LIKE EXPERIMENTS, POLLY DOES NOT."

"It's a Photon Refractor, Polly," said Luke. "My future self wants to see if he can use it on his homing pigeons, because sending messages with them is safer than sending radio transmissions, he said."

"BIG LUKE IS A MAD HATTER, POLLY THINKS."

"Hey...! You can trust him," said Baldrick, piping up to defend his owner. "You'd be going mad too if you had to deal with someone like Moriarty-Layton all the bloody time."

"Glad you think so," Luke cawed, "because you're going next."

"I don't care," was Baldrick's response. "If it means I can do my bit to help fight for the cause of freedom, then I'm all for it. Unlike _some_ birds."

"WHATEVER, MR BOOTLICKER," said Polly.

Baldrick puffed his feathers up, making himself look larger, while screeching angrily. "Why don't you say that again, and see what happens?" he snapped.

"Why don't you come over here and make me?" said Polly.

"That's enough! Knock it off, you two!" said Luke. "If you can't get along, we'll have to put you both in cages for the rest of the flight. Neither of you want that, do you?"

"No," said Baldrick, bowing his head in shame.

"NO," said Polly, doing the same.

"Um..." said Clive, pointing at Baldrick while staring at Luke. "Did you... did you _caw_ to the crow just now?"

Luke looked back at Clive for a moment. "Er... yes. I guess Flora didn't tell you about that."

"VERY TALENTED, ANIMAL SPEAKER IS," said Polly.

"You mean... you can talk to animals?" said Clive.

"Er... yeah," said Luke, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He wondered how Clive would take this news. Would he call him crazy, or sneer derisively, as many other kids were prone to do when confronted with this information?

Clive did neither.

"Wow!" he said. "Every time I think I've seen it all, something else pops up and surprises the heck out of me!"

"You get used to it," said Luke, so relieved that he beamed at Clive.

"Yeah, that's what Flora keeps telling me, but I don't think I can. Everything's so amazing!"

"Wait till you see _this_," said Luke, pushing a button on Polly's refractor.

And just like that, Polly disappeared.

"Woah..." Clive breathed.

"Pretty cool, huh?" said Luke.

"And how!" said Clive.

"HAPPENED, WHAT?" came Polly's voice.

"You're invisible, Polly. How about that, eh?" said Luke.

"PLOP ON DIMITRI'S HEAD WITHOUT HIM KNOWING, POLLY CAN," said Polly triumphantly.

"You don't like Dimitri very much, do you?" said Luke.

"I don't blame him," said Clive, frowning. "I don't like him either."

"LISTEN TO CLIVE, LITTLE LUKE SHOULD," said Polly. "TALKS SENSE, CLIVE DOES."

"You still there, Polly?" said Luke. "I'm going to turn it off now." He moved to turn the machine off, and ended up pressing on thin air - Polly had changed position.

"LIKE TO STAY INVISIBLE A LITTLE LONGER, POLLY WOULD," the parrot told him.

"All right," said Luke reluctantly, "but not too long."

It was then that Baldrick decided to break into song. "NO INCOME TAX, NO V-A-T. NO MONEY BACK, NO GUARANTEE."

"Is that... normal?" said Clive, watching the crow bop his head to an unseen beat.

"Oh, yeah," said Luke. "He randomly spouts out theme songs. It's his 'thing', apparently."

"BLACK OR WHITE, RICH OR BROKE. WE'LL CUT PRICES AT A STROOOOOOOOKE!"

"DO TRICKS AS WELL, POLLY CAN," said Polly, sounding jealous. A biro pen on the table floated up and started to twiddle around in mid-air, before becoming invisible itself.

_Here we go..._ thought Luke, as Polly tapped the table with the invisible pen. Amazon parrots loved to show off, and Luke suspected that Baldrick was taking advantage of this birdly pride and deliberately egging him on. Or perhaps Baldrick was pining for attention too; one of the two.

"I think the fact that you can speak English is amazing enough, to be honest," said Luke, hoping to calm Polly down a bit. At least the sound of the pen was allowing him to guess where Polly was; he pushed hard where Polly's stomach should have been, and Polly suddenly reappeared.

"POO," said Polly, dropping the pen. "BACK TO NORMAL VISIBLE SELF, POLLY IS."

"But Luke's right," added Clive. "You're a special bird, to be able to speak English like that."

"TRUE, THIS IS," said Polly, mollified; he seemed to have taken a shine to Clive.

"Right, Baldrick, your turn," said Luke, pulling a different device up and tying it around Baldrick. "This thing'll let everyone else understand what you're saying - it'll automatically translate to English."

"Blimey," cawed Baldrick. "Didn't know about that one."

"WHAT?" said Polly. "NOT FAIR, THAT IS. TAKING AWAY MY INDIVIDUALITY, THIS TRANSLATOR IS."

"Look, you get invisibility," said Luke firmly, still tying the machine to Baldrick's chest. "You can already speak English, there's no need to put a translator on you, is there?"

"Don't worry," Clive whispered to Polly, "_I_ still think you're cool."

"VERY WISE, CLIVE IS," Polly proclaimed loudly. "LIKE YOU, POLLY DOES."

"Whatever, _Mr_ _Bootlicker_," said Baldrick.

"MATURE, POLLY IS. CHOOSE NOT TO RESPOND TO CHILDISH REMARKS, POLLY DOES."

"Pot, meet kettle," said Baldrick, fluffing himself up again.

"KETTLE, MEET POT," said Polly, also puffing up his feathers.

Luke sighed. "This is going to be a _long_ trip," he said.

* * *

The _Silver Blaze_ dropped Future Luke and the group of four humans in Hampstead Heath, and he guided them down through the underground caverns to the time machine once more, where Bill Hawks was waiting for them. Horace was still at the base of the machine, making some final checks with the other scientists, so the group sat on some wooden stools around one of the workbenches while they were waiting.

Layton tried not to look at Bill. He was sure he'd seen him somewhere long ago... But he was aware his presence was making Bill extremely nervous; he'd almost dropped his mechanical instruments during the brief moment when their eyes had met, while he had been going around the table to sit down.

He also tried hard not to think about it, which, for a person who liked to think a lot, was easier said than done. For his alternate self to hold such a deep grudge, Bill must have done something quite... severe. Future Luke was right; it was probably for the best that he didn't know what had happened.

Layton glanced up. Bill was still avoiding eye contact. He decided that this awkwardness simply wouldn't do. "Mr Hawks, listen to me. I am not going to hurt you. I don't know what happened, but I do not bear any ill will towards you."

Bill finally acknowledged him, but it was with a stern frown. "Yes, I know that. Or, at least, intellectually I know that. You are a different Layton. But you must realise... He wants me dead."

"If that is the case, then I'm afraid I must ask: how do I know that you're not going to take revenge on me instead?"

"No fear of that, Layton. If I tried anything, Luke would be the one after my blood. He made that perfectly clear. It doesn't matter anyway, because you're the only one who can stop Dimitri's plan. You and no one else."

"Right," said Horace, coming forward and interrupting the conversation. Bill looked away, and went to stand with his colleague. "We're going to attach you to the machine, Mr Layton."

"I have a question, if I may?" said Layton.

"What is it?" said Horace.

"Would it be possible for us to return to our own time before you start? There is something I'd like to look up."

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Mr Layton," said Horace. "It's almost impossible to travel to the past unless we punch a hole in Infinity... and that's exactly what Dimitri is doing. The only other way is to use a person's memories, but one of you would need to remain behind to power the machine.

"But even if we had the capability, we still wouldn't be able to send you back just yet. You see, your timeline no longer exists."

"W-what?" said Luke.

"How can I put this...?" said Horace, looking a little tongue-tied. "You are time paradoxes. You shouldn't exist."

"But how can that be?" said Layton.

"Let me start from the beginning," said Horace. "There was a catastrophic event which occurred along all points in space-time. We've called this disaster the 'Time Crash'. It threatened the breakdown of all existence. Every single universe was doomed to collapse. We don't know how it occurred, or how it was reversed, but we do know it happened. Whatever happened to reverse the collapse, the reversal was not perfect. Some imperfections in our timeline remained. Tiny differences, if you like."

"Differences?" said Layton. "What kind of differences?"

"You being more prone to madness, for one thing," said Bill brusquely. "The accelerated rate of technology, for another."

"Thirdly," said Horace, "Polly seems to have acquired a highly concentrated amount of photonic energy as a result of the space-time disaster. He's able to affect the magnetic field around him and distort space-time."

"In other words," said Bill, "the parrot has the ability to time travel."

"We knew that already," said Luke.

"The crucial point," said Bill shortly, "is that in the original timeline, the parrot did not have this ability."

"What about me?" said Clive.

"Yes. Yes. Clive, you're another difference," said Horace. "You're the main difference. The Time Crash, and the reversal, forced you out of the time stream, and you were dropped back twenty years later, like a tornado whipping up a car and dropping it miles from where it started. That displacement caused all the other little differences, which led to this horrible future."

"But why did our timeline stop existing?" said Luke.

"Imagine time is a river," said Horace. "Up to a certain point our timelines were exactly the same, but at the point in which Clive was taken out, the flow of time was directed from your branch over to our newly created timeline, and your timeline effectively... dried up."

"So why are we still here?" said Layton. "If we effectively 'dried up', as it were?"

"That brings me back to how I began, doesn't it?" said Horace. "You're time paradoxes. You shouldn't exist, and yet here you are."

"Eh... I'll answer this one..." said Bill, looking tired all of a sudden. "And I'll continue with the river analogy... Now... are you all familiar with how an ox bow lake forms? Even after most of your timeline had disappeared, there were still bubbles of time left - points in which time still existed."

"And that's where we came in," said Future Luke, speaking for the first time in a while. "It was our plan to take you from one of those spots and into our future before you disappeared entirely. As Horace explained yesterday, you hold within you the blueprints for your timeline in the form of your temporal waves. That was why it was so important that we scanned them from you. Without them there would have been little hope for restoring your timeline."

"Okay," said Layton, nodding slowly. "I'm beginning to understand. But why bring _us_, specifically? Surely any person from our timeline would do?"

"Because..." said Future Luke, and he paused briefly, sighing. "Well... In order to stop Dimitri from controlling time, we need the other timeline to exist. It's actually extremely difficult to control time and with your timeline in place he won't be able to do it. You, Flora and my younger self have a different temporal alignment to this timeline, which means you exist on a different timeframe. Time moves differently for you, compared to the rest of us. It's like you're at right-angles."

"Right-angled time," said Layton. "...For some reason I feel like I've heard that somewhere before... Anyway, could you not just put Clive back to where he should be? Would that not fix things?"

"Yes, of course, that was the first thing we tried," said Future Luke. "But it didn't work."

"W-what?" said Clive, looking horrified. "You moved me through time without telling me?"

"I knew it!" said Flora, cheeks flushing red. "I knew you were up to some no-good shenanigans! Shame on you, Luke! How could you do that to poor Clive?"

"Er... what?" said Future Luke, who looked surprised by Flora's sudden outburst. "Er... oh... well... ah... sorry, Clive."

"Er... that's okay, I guess..." said Clive, who looked just as surprised as Future Luke did.

"It's not like you remembered any of it," Bill grumbled, not looking sorry in the slightest.

"That's not the point! You can't just go using people like that!" said Flora.

"Sorry, Clive," said Horace, sighing while Bill mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath. "Usually when a person is moved through time, they are naturally drawn back to their own time period, because time doesn't like paradoxes very much; there's a sort of natural correction at play. As Luke said, it makes time travel very difficult, if not impossible.

"But every time we tried to move you back, you kept getting drawn back here. It's as if time thinks you belong here. And eventually our Layton realised we were using time travel and tried to disrupt our operation with his own technology, so we had to try something else."

"Is that why we both ended up in a sewer?" said Flora, folding her arms.

"Probably," said Horace. "Sorry about that."

"Well... if it hadn't been for that I wouldn't have met Flora..." said Clive. "I guess it's all turned out for the best in the end."

"Clive... is not a time paradox," Future Luke said, looking at Layton pointedly. "He has no alternate timeline counterpart. In order to put him back, we need the memories of someone from the original timeline as a reference point, to reset the timeline. And you had contact with Clive on that day, Professor..."

"But that doesn't make sense... I don't remember meeting the professor before all this," said Clive. "I'm sure I would have remembered meeting a man in a top hat."

"Of course, it hasn't happened to you yet," said Future Luke. "You were removed from the timeline before it had a chance to happen. But that event has happened to the professor, even if _he_ doesn't remember it."

_I __have__ met this boy before_, Layton realised. _I remember now._ _It was the day Claire died... But he was wandering that very same street, wailing for his parents..._

"It'll cause an implosion," said Horace, in answer to a question that Layton had missed.

"Implosion?" said Luke. "That sounds awfully risky."

"It's incredibly risky. The universe will implode for the tiniest fraction of a second, reset itself, and then time will run forward to the point at which the timeline forked... and then hopefully the flow will be restored.

"Oh, another thing, Professor," Horace went on. "I checked it out - your first visit to Infinity took place during the very same Time Crash. That's why you don't remember it. When time was restored, all the space-times were reset, so your memory was probably erased."

"I see..." said Layton, not quite sure what to make of the fact that he'd apparently had some sort of adventure within Infinity and couldn't remember it.

"There's... a tiny problem with all this," said Clive.

"And what's that?" said Future Luke.

Clive looked at Future Luke, and it was clear that something was troubling him; he was fidgeting with his hat. "I... I don't _want_ to go back."

"Eh?" said Flora. "What do you mean? Don't you want to see if your parents are okay?"

"Yeah, but..." He stared at the floor morosely. "I... I'm supposed to destroy London. In ten years' time."

Future Luke gave him a sharp look. "Who told you that?"

"Dimitri," he said quietly.

Future Luke's reaction was one of incredulity. "And you believed him?"

"Well... He was poking around the insides of my head at the time... I'm not sure what to believe to be honest."

"You shouldn't take what he says at face value," said Future Luke. "Remember, he needs you here in _this_ timeline in order for his plan to work."

"If you say so," said Clive, who looked far from convinced.

"But see here - _we're_ from ten years in your future," said Luke. "And I'm quite sure we would have noticed if London had blown up. On account of us, like, living there. 'Sides, how exactly are you supposed to go about doing it? There's eight million people to avoid!"

"Eh, when you put it like that, I guess you're right," said Clive.

Layton, on the other hand, began to wonder whether there was some kind of significance to his meeting with Clive on the very day Claire died…

* * *

**[ - - ]**

here it was

**[ - - ]**

the memory that didn't fit

**[ - Hidden Memory #3 - ]**

but he couldn't change the outcome

**[ - - ]**

no matter how hard he tried

**[ - - ]**

so the timeline had to be restored by someone else

**[ - - ]**

had he given Hershel Layton enough to go on?

**[ - 3 - ]**

* * *

Max Cunningham sat in the cockpit of the _Blue Lightning_. He chewed nervously on a pen tip, a habit he'd retained from his younger days as navigator of a freight ship, when he knew a storm was coming his way.

Intelligence suggested that Layton's aerial forces had amassed at both Hyde Park and Regent's Park while Dimitri set up his module, to discourage rebel interference. The _Blue Lightning_ was hidden by the new technology and couldn't be detected by Layton's ships, but even so, Max was nervous.

Down below, Layton's flagship was taking off. A compartment opened up, just in front of the nose, revealing a cylindrical apparatus that slowly rose, like a metal tower.

_An antenna?_ thought Max. He'd never seen the _Baryonyx_ do this before. _This must be Layton's own project._

"Let's get out of here," he said to his co-pilot. "No point in sticking around if he's moving."

"Agreed," said his colleague.

Or... perhaps it was a lighthouse? A green light flashed round and round, like a police siren.

And then a wave of green light shot directly towards the _Blue Lightning_ - too fast to dodge.

A new weapon!

"Bugger - damn - bollocks!" Max bellowed, twisting hard on the controls in a futile attempt to avoid the inevitable.

"Impact imminent!" yelled the co-pilot.

It was coming...! Too fast! Max braced for impact -

Nothing.

Nothing happened. The light dissipated.

"What the hell was all that about?" Max growled.

"There's a message coming from the _Baryonyx_..."

"Let's hear it, then," said Max.

"Attention," said Layton's voice, "this is the _Baryonyx_. Could all _cloaked_ ships please shut down their photon refractors and prepare for boarding by military personnel."

_Like hell we will_, snarled Max, before hearing a voice in his mind.

_Disable the cloak_, it said.

Max realised far too late what the green beam of light had really been. He smiled dreamily, while the clouds fogged his mind and forced him to comply.

_You son of a -!_

"Yes, sir," he said.

* * *

The scientists had done what they had needed with Layton, and now it was just a case of waiting for the time machine to calibrate itself. So, while waiting for the time machine to power up, Layton had decided to head up to the surface for a bit of fresh air, and he had sat down on a bench, just in front of a lake. It was overcast, with the kind of clouds one associated with rain, and he hoped it would hold off for a little while longer, so that he would have a chance to think.

He remembered this particular spot on the heath very well. He used to come here with Claire often in the summer, by the lake, to feed the swans and watch the children laugh and play. Layton had hoped that one day, in the future, he would be able to bring his own child, but Claire had died in the explosion before he'd had a chance to tell her how he really felt...

He sighed, reaching into his pocket, and he began to reread each piece of parchment carefully.

_**Beware the man in the black top hat**_**,** he thought. _**To live or die is his true goal…**_

**_A crow reveals the mask's true sin_…**

He then looked at the series of letters, supposedly given to him by his future self.

G.. A..

F.. E. D.

G.. -1B. C.

A. -1B. F..

G...

What on earth could it mean? Why had his future self gone to such pains to deliver it to him? Unless...

A couple of caws floated down from the tree above, and Layton looked up to see Baldrick hopping from branch to branch.

"Hello, Baldrick."

"You seem sad," Baldrick replied, flittering to the ground. He was wearing his translator. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Layton smiled at the crow's interest in his well-being. "You're most kind, but I don't think there's much you can do."

"Am I intruding?" said Baldrick, twisting his head in that quick, jerky manner that birds did.

"Not at all; I should be glad of the company. I am attempting to decipher the puzzle my future self gave me."

"Okay. Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to look for some juicy titbits 'round here."

Baldrick began pecking at the grass, apparently having spotted something to eat. While doing so, he sung a tune, something else he must have learned to mimic at some point in his life. But unlike the other songs, this wasn't a TV show theme. It was a simple melody without words, short but mournful. Layton recognised it.

"Would you sing that again, please?" said Layton.

"Hmm?" said Baldrick, looking up.

"Sing that song again, please? I think I've heard it before."

Baldrick looked round sharply, as if realising what he'd just done, and made a series of angry caws that the translator couldn't interpret.

Then he said: "It's been over ten years and even now I can't get rid of that horrible man!"

"Which horrible man?"

"Descole," said Baldrick crossly. "I hate that song. It reminds me of when I was captive. That's why I don't like going in the underground base here."

"I'm sorry to make you repeat it," said Layton.

"It was a song he used to hum," Baldrick said, clawing absently at the floor. "He was obsessed with it. Guess it sort of stuck with me. He was looking for the Song of the Sea, but the only human that knew the tune passed away."

"Ah. So it was the Song of the Stars that you sung just now?" said Layton.

"Yeah," said Baldrick. "But how'd you know that? Ah, of course! I'm being silly. You were there. It's been so long since my Layton was a good guy that I forgot you solved the mystery of Ambrosia."

"Yes... this was it, wasn't it?" said Layton, humming the Song. He remembered figuring out to play it on the piano. There was a B flat... G, A, F, E, D, G -

_Ah...!_ thought Layton, having a sudden _eureka!_ moment.

G.. A..

F.. E. D.

G.. -1B. C.

A. -1B. F..

G...

It was the Song of the Stars! Each dot represented the duration of the note... so two dots were a minim; and the -1B was actually a B flat, one semitone below a natural B.

But if this was what the letters meant... The gears inside his head were winding like crazy now, piecing together everything he had learned from the world of memories, from the trips through time, and from the riddles.

And something clicked into place: Schrödinger's Cat.

_But it can't be_, he thought.

**"Your deductions are correct," **said a voice.

Layton looked around, to see Polly standing on the grass just in front of some shrubbery.

"Wow, that's... creepy," Baldrick commented.

"I was wondering when you would return..." said Layton. "You say I am correct?"

**"That's right. I see you are just as intelligent as they say... You have figured it out just in time, for I must now teleport you both underground."**

"I'm not going down there!" said Baldrick.

**"It will be easier if you are all together during the evacuation."**

"Evacuation?" said Layton.

**"Yes. You are about to be attacked."**

"Ah," said Layton. In this very specific instance he hated being right. He'd had an inkling that his future self had been planning an attack. Future Luke would need to know. "Very well, teleport away."

* * *

"Are you _sure_ about this?" said Future Luke, looking between Polly and Layton for confirmation.

**"I have had a flash of future memories, a premonition if you like. Unfortunately we are now too close to Infinity on this timeline and I cannot see events as I should. I can only see what might happen, not what will happen."**

"I'm still having trouble swallowing it at all," said Bill. "How can you see the future?"

"How does the time machine allow travel into the future?" Horace asked. "By using human thought. Doesn't it stand to reason that this fellow might able to do the same?"

"We don't have time to theorise," said Future Luke, folding his arms impatiently. "Tell us what you know."

**"Very well," **said the voice. **"There are three outcomes known to me. One: Hershel Layton's military fleet will tear apart Hampstead Heath and utterly destroy this underground base. Survivors will be captured and incorporated into the Com Link system.**

**"Two: the base is evacuated but the _Silver Blaze_ is shot down by the _Baryonyx_ before getting a chance to escape.**

**"Three: the evacuation is successful and the underground complex is completely deserted.**

**"The only way the timeline can be restored is if we endeavour to make outcome three a reality, in which case I wholeheartedly recommend evacuating right now."**

"But how can we restore the timeline if we leave now?" said Bill stubbornly. "The time machine still needs another 10 minutes before it'll be fully ready."

**"The flashes I have seen have led me to the conclusion that you will find a way without using this machine. I do know this: if you stay here for much longer, the Hershel Layton of this timeline will triumph."**

"Without using _this_ machine..." said Future Luke. "So we'll have to use Dimitri's... Damn."

"What do we do, Luke?" said Horace.

Future Luke turned back to face Layton. "Professor? What do you think?"

Layton made a soft sigh. "I trust him. He has been trying to help me uncover the truth behind this future, and I believe I finally have. I have a hunch I may be able to put things to rights."

"Okay," said Future Luke, nodding. "I trust your judgement, Professor. You two, power down the time machine. I'll activate the alarm and issue the evac order."

"This is preposterous...!" Bill hissed, but Horace pulled him by the arm.

"C'mon, you..."

While Future Luke rushed to the PA system, Layton turned to face Polly, who was sitting on the workbench table.

"You can travel to and from Infinity. Would it not be easier to teleport us all to safety and then take me directly to Dimitri's time machine?"

**"I am no longer able to travel great distances. In order to open a wormhole to Infinity, Dimitri has disrupted time's flow. I cannot teleport you across time, only across space, and even then, only across short distances. We will have to travel to the other time machine** **by airship, I'm afraid."**

The site's klaxon blared over the speakers, and Future Luke returned to the workbench, taking a small rectangular device out of his pocket. "Here, Professor. Take this, just in case."

"What's this?" said Layton.

"Robot disruptor. Just push the red button, and it'll emit a jamming signal that'll shut down any robots within a fifteen yard radius."

"Ah. Thank you," said Layton, placing the disruptor in his pocket. It would come in handy if any scorpion robots attacked – provided his future self did not anticipate such a move. But he had an idea… He followed Future Luke, who was shepherding everyone out of the facility.

"Right, everyone," said Future Luke, "move, move, move!"

* * *

The children were safely seated in the lounge area of the _Silver Blaze_ with Bill, Horace, and the two birds, and so Layton followed Future Luke to the flight deck, where they both took their seats. Emmy frantically pushed buttons to get the _Silver Blaze_ into the air, while Belle sat attentively at her navigator's console, earphones at the ready.

"We can't go north," said Belle, looking at her screen. "There are too many Sharks. We'll have to go round... I'll chart the course."

"Roger that," said Emmy. "Here we go..."

The _Silver Blaze_ flew south and then east, and Layton watched the window, where the dark violet-tinged clouds above flashed with purple lightning. The gears of London began to grind faster and louder than ever before, a city-sized machine working towards some unknown goal.

"What's happening?" Future Luke wondered. "The buildings have never done anything like that before..."

The ship rocked slightly, and Layton had to hold tightly onto the seat arm to keep himself steady.

"A storm's brewing..." said Emmy, flicking on the _fasten seatbelts_ switch, "...but it gives me an idea. There's a lot of electrical interference from the clouds... We might be able to pass through unnoticed if we stay up there."

"Agreed," said Belle.

Slowly, Emmy guided the airship through the thick clouds, gaining height to be clear of them, and Layton's eyes widened at the sight he saw. The sky was a mess of purple-tinged colours, as if a person had poured pink, purple and blue paint all over the skies, and had smudged the colours together with their fingers. This painting was alive, an aurora borealis of movement.

In the middle of this lightshow, there seemed to be a mechanical eye-shaped object in the sky, facing downwards. The _Antares_ was a little way away, hovering in place.

"That's Dimitri's ship over there," said Don Paolo over the radio.

"We'll have to hijack his ship, somehow," said Future Luke. "I can go in one of the Pods."

"In this freakish weather? You're mad!" said Belle.

"But this could be our only chance to stop him!" said Future Luke.

"He's bound to have spotted us, Luke," said Emmy. "Don't you find it odd that the _Antares_ is practically unguarded?"

Suddenly, the _Silver Blaze_ rocked sharply, swerving unbidden to the left; and Belle cried out while Layton held on tightly to his seat.

"What the hell...?" said Emmy.

"We've been attacked," said Don Paolo, on the radio. "Well-placed shots, too. They took out our Jammers. They knew exactly where to strike."

"But there's no ship that close on the radar!" said Belle.

"Cloaked ship," said Don Paolo.

"That's impossible," said Future Luke, as the ship shook from another impact.

"You put me on lookout, and as lookout I am telling you, it is coming from an invisible ship! Don't go giving me that 'It's impossible' nonsense, I invented the damn invisibility cloaks, boy!"

"But Layton doesn't have the resources he needs to manufacture them, we made sure of that..." said Future Luke.

"I'm getting us out of here," said Emmy, whirling the steering wheel round.

"Leaving so soon?" Max's voice boomed, over the radio.

"Max...?" said Emmy. "What on earth...?"

"You can't leave just yet!" said Max, with the eerie cheeriness that only a Com Linked person could possess. "The Prime Minister would like to have some words with you first. So I'll just have to keep firing at you until you stop, eh?"

"Oh, no..." said Belle, putting both hands to her mouth.

Future Luke punched the wall of the airship. "Dammit..."

Another blast forced the ship to shudder, after which it completely came to a halt.

"Ah...!" said Emmy, straining to pull on the steering wheel. "I can't move the ship!"

"What's going on up there?" Future Flora called over the radio, from the engine room. "The engines are jammed!"

"We're being attacked..." said Future Luke grimly.

"Ship rising on port bow, 9 o' clock," said Don Paolo.

Like a shark, a dorsal fin slicing through the purple clouds was all that could be seen of the ship; and then the _Baryonyx_ leapt through the clouds like a submarine rising up to float on water.

"They're readying their missiles..." said Don Paolo.

"We're sitting ducks...!" said Belle.

The radio crackled. "Hello, Luke," Future Layton said. "I believe this is what one would call... checkmate."

* * *

**Author notes:  
  
**So, um... cliffhanger. It would be a bit rubbish to leave the story hanging there for five months, so my aim is to get the next chapter out in a similar time frame as this one, real life circumstances permitting, of course. (If you want more information about this fic's update status, you can check my profile.)

Next chapter: "Never the Twain Shall Meet". This chapter is what I've been building towards the entire fic, and... to say anything else would spoil it, frankly. ;)


	13. Never The Twain Shall Meet

**First note:** I'm extremely nervous about this chapter. Hopefully people don't start throwing rotten internet tomatoes at me because of what happens.

**Note no. 2:** Luke and Layton had a previous adventure that took place during another fic of mine called _Out of Time_. You don't need to read _Out of Time_ to understand this fic - otherwise you wouldn't have gotten this far, I'm sure!

To summarise what happened, Luke and Layton travelled to Infinity, where Layton defeated the antagonist with a puzzle. The antagonist of _Out of Time_ was the one responsible for the Time Crash, and as a result he is in fact the indirect cause of the changed timeline in this fic. However, since Layton has already defeated him, he does not appear in this fic.

Onwards!

* * *

**Chapter 13: Never The Twain Shall Meet**

* * *

"_Layton_." Future Luke's voice was little more than a growl.

"My, my, my..." said Future Layton slowly, somehow having the amazing ability to project the image of a smirk over an audio transmission. "You're in a favourable mood, as always. What do you think of my latest weapon? Very useful in persuading the European governments to see things _my_ way, wouldn't you say? And I'm sure the Americans will be just as agreeable."

Layton's entire body seemed to freeze. It was _his_ voice - it was _him_ saying this - disclosing plans for world domination, by putting every country under _his_ control.

"You already know what I think about you," Future Luke snarled.

Future Layton chuckled. "You are _so_ easy to read, my boy. It appears you've saved me the trouble of digging you out of your hole in Hampstead Heath. I knew Dimitri's ship would be an irresistible draw."

Obviously, he had been expecting them. He had every outcome already foreseen, every eventuality catered for. They were dealing with a far more dangerous opponent than Dimitri here. If Dimitri was the cat that had strolled into the aviary, then Future Layton was the tiger that had sauntered into the village.

And yet, thought Layton, this was the only scenario presented by the mysterious voice where they had a slim chance to win...

"What do you want?" said Future Luke, losing none of his vitriol.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Future Layton. "I'm toying with you, my boy. I could easily destroy your ship. I could just as easily put you all under my control. In fact, I think I shall do just that."

"That's enough," said Layton sharply.

"Ah...! My past self. You're on board after all. Tell me, were you able to solve my little puzzle?"

"Yes..." said Layton. "The Song of the Stars. But giving me the riddle to solve was not the main purpose. It was in fact a clever way of disguising the fact that it was hiding a bug: an intricate homing device."

Future Luke's eyes widened as he made a surprised grunt; and then his face darkened into a venomous scowl.

Once again Future Layton chuckled, as though he could see Future Luke's reaction. "My dear boy. Did you really think I'd just _let_ you take back Clive?" he said, voice as sweet as honey laced with poison. "No, I knew you would mount a rescue sooner or later. It was a simple matter to plant the bug on Clive. After that, all I had to do was wait. I have greatly enjoyed our little game, Luke. A shame it must now come to an end."

"Wait," said Layton, shaking his head despite the fact that they were communicating via audio. "I'm not done yet, Hershel. You see, I also saw something else hidden in that piece of paper, something important that even you are not aware of."

There was a sharp pause, and Future Luke, Emmy and Belle simultaneously looked at Layton, as if awed by the fact that he'd managed to give his future self food for thought.

"You... intrigue me," said Future Layton carefully. "What exactly did you see?"

"I will need to tell you in person."

Layton could imagine his future self narrowing his eyes.

"And why should I want to let you do that?"

"Because I have figured out the truth," said Layton. "All of it."

"I... see," said Future Layton. "Well, you've appealed to my curiosity. Very well. You will have to bring along your Luke and Flora. And Clive."

Layton narrowed his own eyes. "Why?"

"I'm afraid you're in no position to negotiate terms. And I will issue a word of warning to you. If I know you as well as I think I do - and I should think I'd know myself very well - then you will no doubt have some kind of ace up your sleeve. I would advise against taking any such action. If you should try anything, I will immediately open fire on the _Silver Blaze_. I don't particularly care that there are civilians down below who would suffer heavy casualties if a giant airship were to come crashing down, but I suspect you do. Do not test my patience."

"Understood..." said Layton.

The radio clicked off, and Layton breathed a sigh of relief. Not long to go now...

"You're going over, just like that?" said Future Luke. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Oh, yes," said Layton gravely. "Very sure."

* * *

After being searched, and then escorted by five scorpion robots, Layton walked along the metallic corridors of the _Baryonyx_, ready for the inevitable confrontation. The group of four had their hands tied behind their backs, and with several rifles aimed in their direction, there was little, if any, chance for escape.

They entered a large lounge of a room, with tables surrounded by comfy-looking sofas, and Layton couldn't help feeling that this was an odd choice for a meeting room. There was probably a reason for it.

Sitting behind a table was his duplicate, and next to him was Dimitri, slumped rather grumpily in the white sofa. Future Layton stood up, walking around the desk and coming to a stop just in front of them. He nodded in acknowledgement towards his younger self.

"So. We finally meet."

There were few things in life stranger than meeting an alternate version of your own self. A whirlwind of emotions went round and round, each fighting the other for dominance and it was perhaps the only time in years that Layton felt he had no control over any of them. It was too much, all too much. He was just unable to believe that this could have been him.

Eventually anger won out, and he growled. "Are you quite done with this madness?"

"Madness? All of this is not 'madness', I assure you. Dimitri and I are fighting against Time itself."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"What I mean, _Professor_, is that our timeline is tainted."

This sounded like the kind of comment that would precede an explanation, and indeed Future Layton put both arms behind his back and began to pace slowly from one side to the other.

"This is not the original timeline, as I'm sure you're aware. Time naturally wants to revert to its normal course. It's taking everything we have just to keep things as they are... So you see, though we seek to control Time, our aim is not to bring Claire here, despite that being a nice consequence. Our ultimate goal is to stop ourselves from fading into non-existence."

Layton set his features into a hardened frown. It never occurred to him that there could ever be a bad side to keeping a calm and composed nature at all times, but now that he was seeing this behaviour from the outside, he was finding it infuriating.

"And that's your justification for enslaving all of Britain?"

"A necessary evil. Clive was sent twenty years into his future. We had only a window of twenty years before Time organised itself and prepared to flow back along its original course... and considering Dimitri only approached me eleven years ago, that didn't give us a great deal of time. We needed a sure-fire way of getting all of Britain behind us in our endeavour."

"You were the one who sent those gangsters after me, weren't you?" said Clive quietly. He looked scared; his eyes were widened in fear.

"Yes..." Future Layton regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, and then returned his attention to his other self.

"Listen carefully, Hershel. Clive is what I call the 'pivotal moment'. If he is there, where he should be, your timeline flows. If he is not, my timeline flows. Your quandary is how to keep him there. Mine is how to keep him here...

"To be... Or not to be..."

There was something about the way he said this that made Layton's anger disappear. In its place was... pity.

"I must ask you something," he said. "It's about Schrödinger's Cat."

Future Layton let out a rather nasty laugh. "You _have_ figured it all out, haven't you? Well done! But it changes nothing."

Dimitri straightened himself up, and unfolded his arms. "What are you both talking about?"

"Oh, don't worry, we're still going ahead," said Future Layton. "But there is something I need to do first."

"What's that?" said Dimitri.

"I've seen what I needed to see." Future Layton snapped his fingers, and the robots aimed their guns at the group. "It's time for them to die," he said.

"You can't be serious..." said Dimitri.

"I'm very serious," said Future Layton. "Why do you think I had them all brought before me?"

Dimitri shook his head. Clive looked terrified. Luke was defiant, looking rather like his angrier older self; but Flora's face broke Layton's heart. He'd never seen such disappointment cross her features before.

"Professor..." she said sadly.

Future Layton's face turned ugly by way of a smirk, and he sneered; but Dimitri contrasted this lack of sympathy by being completely shocked.

"Hershel...!" he said warningly.

"I suppose you're going to try to convince me otherwise," said Future Layton.

"I'm not going to simply sit by and do nothing," Dimitri said, standing and walking to stand next to him. "The robots respond to my commands as well as yours, and I won't let you do this."

Future Layton ignored him, his manner turning so cold that Layton's next feeling was one of disbelief. How could this have happened? How could he have gone so far?

"_You_," said Future Layton, taking a step forwards, his face forming a terrible frown, his cold eyes locking onto Layton's. "_You_ are the 'good' Layton, from the 'good' timeline... and I despise you for it."

"Hershel... there's no need for this," said Dimitri. "You know what we're about to do... just leave them be."

"What difference does it make?" said Future Layton, eyes still cold, and still staring at Layton's own. "They're doomed either way. Once our timeline is set in stone-"

"It makes a difference to me, dammit!" said Dimitri.

"You're too soft, Dimitri."

"This is crazy! Think about what you are doing. You're pointing a gun at _yourself_."

Future Layton finally turned to look at his colleague. "This isn't some twisted form of suicide, if that's what you're driving at. He is not me, and I am not him. _That_ is why I hate him so."

"Hershel," said Layton softly. "You're not going to shoot me."

Future Layton turned back to face his younger self. "Oh? Why not?"

Layton bowed his head down. "I'm sorry, Hershel." he said. And to the wind, he whispered, "Now..."

"AWK," said an invisible voice; and suddenly the light left Future Layton's eyes and he powered down as if he was -

"A robot...?" said Flora.

Both Luke and Clive made variations of an "Eh?" exclamation as Future Layton and all the scorpion robots dropped to the ground like ragdolls.

Dimitri's step back was almost a giant leap back. "W-what's going on?"

"Come out," said Layton, calling out to the air. "I know you're watching."

The sound of someone clapping echoed across the room, and the doors at the back of the room slid open. A man in a mask and a cape entered... followed by a wolf with a control device on its ear.

"Descole," said Layton.

"You!" said Luke, clenching his fists. "I knew it! I was right the first time!"

Dimitri's eyes went wild, in such a bewildered state that he almost looked like a trapped animal. "What's the meaning of this? What's your game?"

"You've played your part well," said Descole. "Now it's my turn..." He snapped his fingers and two cages rose up out of the floor, one for Dimitri and another for the group standing opposite them both.

Dimitri growled, grabbing the metal bars with both hands. "Where's the real Hershel? What have you done to him?"

"I did _nothing_," Descole hissed. "He did it all to himself. I'd assumed he wouldn't fight, however. That was my first mistake."

* * *

**[ - Hidden Memory #3 - ]**

_That evening, by Tower Bridge, along the River Thames. The fool wasn't thinking clearly at all. Layton lunged at me and tripped! Fell over the edge! Had the tide been high, the water would have cushioned his fall. But at low tide... _

_And I was furious! How could I extract the information I needed if the idiot had gone and broken his neck?_

_I knew that Dimitri would suspect foul play... so before burying the body, I copied Layton's memories and personality, and then later I transferred them to an exact robot duplicate, hoping to fool Dimitri and the police. The trouble is, it worked rather too well. He had no idea he had died - from his perspective it was as though he'd merely knocked himself unconscious. He awoke far sooner than I expected, and was still very angry... _

_I saved myself by activating ... a prototype Com Link, if you like. I implanted a fake memory - an illusion of reality. In his mind, he thought he had killed me. That was the start of his descent into madness, I suppose. He stole the plans for the prototype, and left my lab._

_I traced the precise moment in the future in which Infinity was breached, and pinpointed the source of Robot Layton's memories, which were located here..._

**[ - 3 - ]**

* * *

"That wormhole a month ago!" gasped Dimitri. "Piccadilly Circus! That was you! You used your own time machine to travel here to this time so you could reap the rewards of all my hard work."

"That's right," said Descole, looking pleased at his own genius rather than disgusted by it. "I disguised myself as Ward, infiltrated the Family, and once I got close enough to the Layton robot... Well, the rest was child's play. Benji's collar here transmitted the data controls that I needed to exert over the robot. All part of my plan to take over this Infinity project of yours."

Over the rising sound of Dimitri's growl, Descole continued. "I must say, I'm surprised at how much you've both accomplished here. More so because I didn't program the robot Layton in any way; he acts exactly as he would have had he still been alive."

"And why should we believe you?" said Dimitri.

Descole turned to Layton. "Layton, _you_ know it's true, don't you? Given the chance to get revenge on Bill Hawks, you would have done it, wouldn't you?"

Layton took a step back, recoiling as if slapped in the face. "No... I..."

"Claire meant so much to you that you wanted to get even," said Descole, sneering as though the thought of an action being driven by love repulsed him.

Luke growled, about to retort a reply, but Dimitri beat him to the punch.

"What utter nonsense!" he snapped. It seemed the discovery that he'd been used all along and that Hershel had been dead the whole time had forced Mt. Dimitri to erupt with rage. "I've never heard such tripe in my life! What would _you_ know about human emotion? For all your credentials and research into the human mind, you've clearly never experienced true love first-hand before. What a sad man you are..."

Even through the mask, it was easy to see Descole's harsh glare. "We shall see how much of that attitude remains when I've gained control over all reality," he said.

With that, he turned around and walked briskly through the doors, which hissed shut behind him. The wolf remained as a guard.

Layton found, suddenly, that he was free. The air shimmered, like searing heat in a sandy desert, and Polly appeared, wearing his photon refractor, and with pieces of rope in his mouth.

"A portable photon refractor..." said Dimitri, staring at Polly while he chewed the ropes of the others and set them free. "And he's carrying a robot disruptor! Well played, Hershel."

"So - what - are you on _our_ side now?" said Clive, shooting a fierce glare at Dimitri.

Dimitri sighed tiredly, looking down at the floor of his cage. "For years I toiled and slaved, working for a way to save Claire, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing! Hershel was never even alive. All this time, and I never knew! How could Descole be so... callous? He couldn't leave poor Hershel to die in peace! Perhaps the dead should remain dead." He laughed bitterly. "Look how long it's taken me to realise that!"

There was an awkward silence following the pause, but then Dimitri continued: "Descole may be willing to do anything for science, but... I will not. Not any more. We must stop him. If the machine is incorrectly aligned, he could inadvertently destroy our world."

"This _cannot_ be happening," said Clive, shaking his head. "I'm stuck twenty years in the future, the evil professor controlling all of the United Kingdom is really a robot, and now I'm trapped inside a cage by some reject from a failed Phantom of the Opera production!"

"It's not all doom and gloom," said Dimitri. "In his haste, Descole forgot to take care of one crucial element."

"The crashing chandelier?"

"The parrot."

Clive stared at Polly, who was now perched atop Luke's shoulder. "Oh, well, _now_ it all makes sense," he said sarcastically.

"No, he's right," said Layton. "In fact, I'd surmise that Descole doesn't know about Polly's ability at all."

Dimitri tilted his head and smirked. "He may have access to all of Hershel's memories, but... I never told Hershel about the parrot."

"Polly," said Luke. "Would you-"

"No!" said Polly. "If you think I'm going to work with that sleazeball of a scientist, you've got another think coming!"

"Sleazeball?" said Dimitri.

"Crap. I knew I shouldn't have stolen Baldrick's translator..."

"C'mon, Polly, we can't stop Descole without you," said Luke.

"If ever we've needed your help, now is the time," Layton added.

"Double crap," said Polly, looking disgruntled. "The voice entity thing in my head says I've got to help, 'cause of the fate of the universe and whatnot... Hold on..."

He shut his eyes, and then black light shone out like two mini-torches of darkness. Technically darkness was an absence of light, but the darkness was shining nonetheless.

**"I am now. I am never. I am always... ****I cannot change. I can only flow."**

Dimitri's eyes widened in awe, and he gasped. "I understand now," he said. "I know who you are! You _are_ Time, aren't you?"

**"Correct."**

"A collection of events; a gathering of memories, from past to future, transforming into a stream of consciousness... and it all settled within this parrot's body," said Dimitri.

"But how is that possible?" said Clive. "How can Time be _alive_?"

**"Within Infinity, all things are possible."**

"It must have happened during the Time Crash event," said Dimitri. "The Time Crash was linked to a distortion which originated in Infinity. The distortion forced the time streams to leak into this timeline."

Layton nodded. "Horace and Bill gave us all a similar explanation."

**"I have gone in the wrong direction,"** said Time. **"The pivotal moment, the turning point... Clive should not be here."**

"Then you must take us back in time so we can put things right," said Layton. "Take Clive back to where he should be. That would prevent all of this from happening, would it not?"

**"I cannot. I do not possess the power. Dimitri's time machine forces the flow of time in this direction. I tried, with all my might; I searched through all the hidden memories, through each snapshot of the events that led up to this point, for a way to change the course. But I could do nothing to alter the flow. To use an analogy... you are asking the water in a river to change direction, when you yourself must dig the trench to avert disaster."**

"Tell us what we must do, then, and we'll do it," said Dimitri.

**"If you wish to change the timeline back to the way it was, then you must stop Descole, for he is digging his own trench. You must go to the exact point in which he opens Infinity to this world. If you do not stop him at that very specific point in space and time, I will forever flow in this direction. It will become the 'right' direction. I cannot help you then, or indeed ever."**

"Take us back to my ship, then," said Dimitri. "We have another few minutes before the module fully charges up. I might be able to do something from there."

**"That, I can do,"** said Time.

* * *

The group were teleported to a place that appeared to be a mix between a lab and a air pilot's cabin, where several people were at stations and consoles monitoring radar and other such things, as well as frantically yelling and waving arms; and an alarm was going off.

"Ach! Dimitri!" said Cuthbert, jumping in fright. "Where the bloody hell did you come from? Actually, never mind that - someone's stolen the Infinity module!"

"Yes, I know," said Dimitri. "He must have gotten the access codes from Her - from the robot."

"What robot? Who? What happened on the PM's ship?" said Cuthbert. "We've been locked out of our controls. The readout's goin' crazy!"

"We've been sabotaged." Dimitri sat at a console and typed in something, his fingers whizzing across the buttons. "Hmm, we can aim the cameras there at least. But someone will have to go in manually."

He turned on a large screen, which showed a mechanical apparatus opening out, like a giant eye in the sky. Purple lightning flashed around the eye, and a grey vortex swirled directly underneath.

"Now I see. That's why you built London into a machine," said Layton. "So you could power this entire operation."

"Yes. Well spotted, Hershel."

"But what is that-that grey hole thing?" said Flora.

**"A Time-error,"** said Time. **"What you call a wormhole. It can swallow entire worlds if one is not careful..."**

"Then you must take me there at once," said Layton, a grim frown on his face.

**"I cannot. The eye machine collects and directs time. I would be absorbed."**

"Take us to the Pod bay," said Dimitri. "I can send Hershel along from there."

**"Very well."**

"Wait a minute!" said Cuthbert, ignoring the strange little bird staring at him with hollowed out eyes. "Dimitri, you daftie, you're not seriously thinking o' sending the Prime Minister right into the middle of that, are ya?"

Layton and Dimitri stared at each other, and then looked back at Cuthbert at the same time.

"Yes," they said.

"But that's suicide, man! If the module isn't in the proper alignment -"

"Look, I'd do myself," said Dimitri, "but if I stay here I might be able to regain control of the module. I'm certainly not sending anyone else; Hershel is the only person I can trust right now."

"But -"

"Please," said Layton softly, but firmly. "I must do this."

"Okay!" said Cuthbert cheerfully, returning to his console. "Can't argue with the Prime Minister, now, can I?"

"Should have put his one on a higher setting for me so he wouldn't argue with me all the bloody time," Dimitri grumbled under his breath.

**"No time for complaining. Time to go! Time waits for no one!"** said Time, with varying degrees of irony.

"Sounds like you're getting a sense of humour, there," said Dimitri, raising an eyebrow.

**"Yes, the more, er, time I spend actively communicating with you, the more I seem to take on aspects of the world I'm inhabiting... More of a reason to hurry, frankly."**

* * *

Once in the Pod bay, Dimitri opened the door to a tiny craft, gesturing for Layton to climb inside. It was the one-manned airship that Dimitri had used when they had first met outside Gressenheller University.

"I can direct the craft from here," said Dimitri. "But you need to stop him at all costs. I'm going to destroy the module the first chance I get."

"Are you sure? Didn't it take you eleven or so years to get this far?"

"Of course I'm sure. I don't want the world to completely collapse, you know. Nor do I have any intention of being Descole's pawn any more." He paused briefly, and then said, "Be careful, Hershel. Reality may distort while you are up there. The laws of physics as we know them may not quite work as they should."

_Like Infinity_, Layton thought. "Understood." He climbed into the mini-blimp, and Dimitri handed him a little round device.

"Radio transceiver, so we can keep in touch," said Dimitri. "Assuming, of course, that the distortion will allow the transmission of radio waves. You may be on your own out there."

The bay doors opened, and the tiny craft took off. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Luckily he didn't have to do very much in the way of steering. Dimitri was controlling the small aircraft from within the larger one. But there were lightning bolts flying all across the sky, which made for some sharp jerks and turns. It was by no means a smooth ride.

The Eye was facing straight down; on the other side of the Eye there was a raised platform, upon which a large computer console sat, with two tuning fork prongs on either side. As Layton's tiny ship made the approach to land, a final bolt of lightning struck true, forcing him to abandon the ship and roll rather dramatically on the floor of the eye's platform.

On the platform, Descole was typing in a set of instructions on the console. Presumably he'd heard the crash landing, because he turned around as soon as Layton came near.

His lips were set into a tight smile. "I knew you'd come. You always do. Even when it isn't your timeline. You just have to play the hero."

Layton took one step forwards, frowning. "Descole. This insanity ends here."

"Insanity? This is not insanity! This is sheer brilliance!"

Descole held up his right hand, and formed a sphere of blue lightning, grin widening with a kind of crazed glee. "Look at this, Layton! Isn't it simply marvellous?"

"How are you...?"

"Don't be so close-minded! Can't you feel it in the air? The breakdown of the walls. The destruction of all and any limits! Now reality will be whatever I desire it to be!"

Layton didn't even think: it just happened. One moment he was standing there, waiting for the blue lightning ball to hit him, and the next he was holding a sceptre with the ability to absorb lightning - and it did just that.

"No...!" snarled Descole. "Only I may be allowed to change the rules of our universe! Not you!"

The lightning ball in his hand turned into a solid, metal mace, and he charged, mace held high, ready to pound on a potential head. Layton changed his sceptre into a giant shield, flinching less and less from the vicious attacks as the shield grew stronger in response to his inner desire to protect himself, so much so that it completely covered him. He was covered in brilliant mace-proof armour.

Maddened by this development**,** Descole threw away the mace, which, upon contact with the platform, disappeared in a flash of light. No longer needed, Layton's armour also vanished.

"You were always stealing my discoveries from me!" said Descole, breathing hard. "This should have been mine. Not yours!"

Descole's words degenerated into a low, murmuring hiss; and his pupils turned to reptilian slits. His head elongating, his body changed into that of a dinosaur with a large scythe for a thumb. The air around him came alive, the platform exploding with a spring bloom of plants, the area around him transforming into that of a riverside bank - a Baryonyx by a river during the Cretaceous period.

There was a moment when the Baryonyx-Descole stared down at Layton, growling menacingly; and then an energetic clash of wills followed, with the environment shifting accordingly. Two dinosaurs circled one another on the banks of the river, hissing and snapping at each other with crocodilian jaws. Two knights galloped towards each other with lances aimed at their opponent. Two wizards dashed around, magic wands dancing through the air, the arcane arts flying in sprinkled dots everywhere.

Wizard-Layton fired an ice spell, but the moment it struck, Descole transformed into a shining white tiger, with fur that repelled magic and that shattered the ice. He bounded towards Layton, leaping at him with claws extended and open jaws snarling. Layton chose to transform into -

* * *

"A dragon?" said Clive, watching on the large screen. "He turned into a Chinese dragon! This is absolutely bonkers!"

The radio clicked on. "It's the reality-distorting properties of Infinity," said Dimitri, from the Pod bay. "It's leaking into this universe."

"Aye," said Cuthbert. "Do not adjust your television set."

"Omigosh!" said Luke. "I remember now!"

"Eh?" said Clive. "What are you talking about?"

"I remember!" Luke persisted. "The professor and I, we've been to Infinity before!"

"Indeed...?" said Dimitri. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure! We saw two real dragons there!"

"What?" said Flora, glaring at Luke in a _how come I didn't know about this?_ way. "When did this happen?"

"It was while we were at Folsense," said Luke. "We were transported to Infinity by a Chinese monk. And we saw dragons, and ghosts... and two dinosaurs, I think."

"That sounds... completely crazy," said Clive.

"Not like what's happening right now?" said Luke, with a raised eyebrow.

"But Folsense wasn't real - at least not what you saw," said Flora. "Anton wasn't really a vampire. And Dr Schrader wasn't really dead. How do you know it wasn't all a dream?"

"That's not how the ore works," said Dimitri. "It causes hallucinations, but it can only bring to surface what a person already believes to be true. I doubt Hershel truly believed in dragons, or indeed any mythical creature, during your stay at Folsense. So I think you really did visit Infinity, and this incident has triggered the latent memory - as it appears to have done with Hershel, too."

"But what's so special about the dragon, specifically?" said Clive.

"It's important to me, at least, because when we saw the first dragon, I asked him... Well, I asked him to have faith," Luke said. To think with his heart, instead of his mind... "Maybe now he'll believe it all to be true..."

High in the sky, the courageous dragon and the majestic tiger wrestled with each other. Round and round they went, in an endless cycle of infinity, like the ouroboros; locked into an eternal struggle.

The clouds lit up with purple lightning flashes. The dragon and the tiger fell off the platform. And in the crackling storm of broken reality, both Layton and Descole lost their minds... literally.

The Song of the Stars played.

* * *

Luke and Flora gasped.

"Vanished," whispered Clive.

"Holy smokes," said Cuthbert. "Where the bloody 'ell have they gone?"

"Transmission from the _Silver Blaze_," said the radio operator.

Dimitri, who had returned from the Pod bay, put a hand on his forehead and sighed. "Put them through..."

"What the hell's going on over there?" Future Luke demanded.

"Slight technical hitch," said Dimitri, somehow managing to keep his voice calm amidst all the chaos.

"Slight?" This was Bill's voice. "Do you even understand what's happening out there? Space-time is breaking down! If we don't put a stop to it, our entire universe will collapse!"

"I'm aware of that, Bill. I did design the device, after all. Now let me tell you what else I know. Jean Descole has gained control of my Infinity module and is, at the current juncture, attempting a complete overhaul of our reality."

"What?" said Future Luke, along with a female voice that Dimitri recognised from previous skirmishes as the _Silver Blaze's_ extremely skilled pilot, though he didn't know her name.

"So, yes, while space-time is breaking down, within that vortex, it will reform to whatever Descole chooses. The Hershel from the other timeline has flown to the Eye to confront him. We're going to send the feed from our cameras to you now... but there's a lot of distortion, please hold on..."

"What are you, a sales operator?" said Don Paolo's sardonic voice, but Dimitri waved, signalling his radio operator to cut the transmission. There was no time for distractions now - right now he needed to concentrate like he had never before. He would do whatever he could to help Time, no matter what the cost.

* * *

Future Luke was pacing back and forth in the _Silver Blaze_ cockpit. Descole was back? How could that be?

The sky itself seemed to shudder from the force of the device; the airship was rocking back and forth. The signal from Dimitri's camera came through, and it showed the mechanical Eye, with a backdrop of thunderous thick purple clouds, flickering with flashes of purple lightning; a giant silver vortex, like a black hole, underneath; and several specks of twinkling light dotted around the Eye, like tiny stars shining bright on a clear night.

"What the hell is that supposed to be?" said Bill.

"Wish I knew," growled Future Luke.

Where was the professor?

* * *

An idea was intangible, something that you could reach out and try to grab, but never truly touch. There was almost a magical quality about an idea, like you were trying to catch capricious fairies in the woods. If you didn't tie the little buggers down, there was the danger that they would forever escape, never to be seen again. And if your brain was full of ideas, whizzing about, whimsical and unruly - ideas that _needed_ to be expressed, that demanded freedom from the confines of the mind and to be made real - well, it was no wonder artists and musicians could occasionally be seen to be a little on the eccentric side.

Layton was feeling light-headed, as if the contents of his brain had been poured outside, into the sky, and put on show, for all to see. Those floating dots of light in the sky, the shining stars: here lay Layton's mind. His ideas, his hopes, his dreams... He couldn't _see_ them, for his physical self existed no more. But he could _feel_ them, hanging in the air...

_Hershel! You need to focus! The boundary between the imagined world within the mind and the real world without has shattered. Your very thoughts have become real... but don't become lost inside them!_

He ignored Dimitri's warning, but not because he wanted to. It was just that he felt so empty... and at the same time, he felt free. No more pressure. No rules, like in Infinity. No worries that he would one day fail again, like he had failed Claire. He didn't have to be the perfect gentleman, nor the model citizen, nor the flawless crime-solver. He could just be normal.

_Hershel! Stop Descole or there will be no future!_

This voice...!

It...

It belonged to Claire.

That sobered him up, with the same effect that a splash of icy water to the face would have done.

There couldn't be any questions asked. How she was here, speaking to the shattered pieces of his mind? Irrelevant. Whether she was truly here, brought forwards in time by science, or whether she was a by-product of his own mind... it didn't matter. He would listen to her.

Layton collected his thoughts. Actually, right now, he _was_ his thoughts. So he collected himself, and found that he was coming across Descole's thoughts in mid-air, too.

The Song of the Stars played...

Descole's stars were made of irrational, disjointed thoughts, but they gave off emotions that Layton could feel as if they were his own. Desperation, fear, anger...

_slowly breaking down..._ one dot of light said.

_looking for a cure..._ another dot of light said.

_each day a piece of me dies... _

_each day i lose more and more of my sanity... _

_must find a cure..._

_- That's why you were so desperate to find Ambrosia, _said a Layton dot-of-light. _Why you were so interested in neuroscience. You needed a cure for your own brain... which was slowly dying..._

_i don't want your pity!_ said all of Descole's dots.

Suddenly, reality got its act together and put everything back the way it was supposed to be. In that instant, Layton was standing on the platform of the Eye once more. Both he and Descole were holding swords.

"No..." said Descole, his eyes darting around quickly. "It's gone. The link to Infinity has been broken. I shall... have to dispose of you first."

Layton tensed as Descole ran forward, charging with his sword, the intent to kill clear in his eyes. Layton parried each time, always managing to deflect Descole's blows.

"Perhaps I need not bother," said Descole, still slicing through the air with his sword. "Perhaps I shall go back in time and kill your foolish girlfriend right before your eyes. That would be a marvellous stroke of revenge, wouldn't you say? You took many precious items from me, after all."

Layton stopped abruptly, distracted by the thought of Claire being in potential danger. In that moment of hesitation, Descole sprung forwards, and taken by surprise, Layton had to react with lightning reflexes. He dodged being stabbed with Descole's swinging sword just in the nick of time.

Descole drew back, triumphant in his actions. "This is child's play, Layton! I rather thought you would do better than that. But you're just like your alternate self. Claire is your weakness."

Weakness...? It was true that he had been heartbroken when she had died. It was true that, more than anything, he wanted to know the truth behind the explosion. It was true that, in his heart of hearts, he had known that she was the one for him, and he'd wanted to know whether she felt the same way.

But he also knew what else was true. That if she were alive, she would be right alongside him, supporting him in whatever way she could. He could almost hear her voice cheering him on, and with the memory of her encouraging him, he raised his sword.

"Claire is not my weakness," he said quietly. "She is my strength!"

What happened next was pure impulse. Summoning an incredible amount of both speed and strength, Layton pushed Descole aside, forcing the other man's sword to clatter sideways on the platform. He pointed his sword at Descole's throat.

Descole looked far from afraid. If anything, his contemptuous sneer grew even larger. "Come now, _you're_ not a robot. You could never kill a man in cold blood."

Layton lowered his sword, knowing that Descole was right. This proved to be a mistake, for Descole took advantage of his show of mercy and lunged at him. Layton dodged; but he lost his footing, and his left foot stood on thin air. It was only sheer luck that allowed him to grab the edge of the platform with both hands.

Descole stood over him as he dangled, laughing long and hard, cold and cruel. "Just like your other self! Hanging over the River Thames! A righteous gentleman, as always. You were a fool to believe you could defeat me with such a chivalrous manner."

There was a booming sound, like that of a firework exploding, and the platform shuddered. Layton made a great effort to hold on, swinging backwards and forwards as more explosions rocked the Eye. What was happening?

"Damn you, Layton!" said Descole, yelling over the rumbling thunder. "Every time I think I find something worth a goldmine, you come in and snatch what should be rightfully mine! Not any more!"

He stamped his foot down hard. Layton yelled out in pain, jerking his hurt hand away, and strained hard with his other hand, his legs wriggling as he tried to regain balance. His heart pounded in his skull, his breath came in short gasps - he couldn't let go - his hat fell off his head - his thoughts whirled round - Descole was laughing...

_It's over..._

_Just like my other self..._

_I'm going to die._

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Descole's foot came down. Layton shut his eyes, hoping beyond all else that his right hand would not fail him.

And then a bright light flashed in his eyelids. He opened his eyes, to see himself looking down at Descole from a great height. Layton was floating.

Descole looked around, and then located Layton above him. He howled with rage, so furious that the entire sky seemed to fill with the sound of his voice.

"How dare you cheat me like that? How dare you rob me of my second revenge?!"

**"The Eye machine has been set to self-destruct,"** said a voice. Layton looked beside him to see Polly floating right alongside him. **"We should leave."**

"You... you... saved me..." said Layton, still breathing hard.

**"Yes,"** said Time, **"but you should thank Dimitri. He was the one who shut down the eye machine and helped me to reach you in time."**

Another explosion caused the swirling vortex underneath the Eye to suddenly pulse, and it grew larger, extending to absorb part of the Eye. Now Descole looked panicked, edging away from the vortex before realising he'd run out of platform.

Despite having been threatened several times in the last few minutes by Descole, Layton couldn't help but feel pity for him.

**"I sense that you want to stay..."** said Time, as though he thought that this was not a good idea.

"Yes. What about Descole? Can you not save him as well?"

**"I don't have enough power. My powers are still being drained. They will not be fully restored until Dimitri shuts down his main time machine. Let's go, it's not safe here..."**

As Time said this, the Time-error expanded like a big, round silver balloon, swallowing both Descole and the Eye; and then it twirled round and round, like water flowing down a drain... and vanished with a pop.

"Oh... no... Is he...?"

**"He did not survive. But now I shall take you back..."**

A flash of light signalled a return to solid ground, on board the _Antares_. Layton immediately sat down on the floor, feeling the wall with trembling fingers, as though he needed to touch it to actually confirm it was there.

"How... how awful..." he whispered, staring blankly at his hands and then at the wall. He wouldn't wish that fate on anyone, not even his worst enemy.

"Hershel... are you all right?" said Dimitri. "You look a bit shaken... do you want some water?"

"I-I'm fine," said Layton.

"You don't look fine..." said a female voice. It was one that was strangely familiar.

Layton looked up to see who the voice belonged to, and his heart leapt into his throat.

"Claire...?"

* * *

**Note the third:** So did anyone guess the plot twists? Too obvious? Not obvious enough? Didn't like what happened? Let me know in a review! :)

There are two more chapters and an epilogue left to go. Next chapter is called: "A Matter of Time".


	14. A Matter of Time

**Notes: **Bonus chapter! :D

I'd originally planned to have 15 chapters and an epilogue. But when I was editing this chapter I kept adding more and more things that were not in the original plans; a good deal of it was written "off script" as a spur of the moment thing. In the end I added so much that it was becoming far too long and I had to split the chapter in half. Which means that there will actually be another two chapters after this one… and I need to come up with a new name for the next chapter. Calling it "A Matter of Time, part 2" would be the epitome of laziness.

As a side note, the romance genre is outside my writing comfort zone; I'm more of an action/adventure writer. But this is where the Layton/Claire pairing starts to come into play. Hopefully it's satisfactory. :3

* * *

**Chapter 14: A Matter of Time**

* * *

Claire bent down and took Layton's sore hand in both of her own hands, rubbing gently. "Hershel... It's good to see you again. Dimitri told me that this is an alternate timeline, and you were fighting to save everyone."

"But...!" was all Layton was able to say. For a moment, he briefly considered whether he was dreaming. This didn't make an iota of sense, and for once he was having trouble keeping his emotional state hidden, especially when Claire drew closer and hugged him, and he could feel her breath on his neck. Logic tended to go on holiday for extended periods of time whenever he thought about her. It never used to back when she'd been alive, never this much. And she was alive right now, apparently. He tried to gather himself.

He looked up at Dimitri. "Did you-?"

Dimitri was shaking his head before Layton had even begun the sentence. "Claire's appearance has nothing to do with me." The scientist glanced tiredly in Polly's direction. "It was his idea."

**"I thought it might be useful to send Claire's thoughts to you, to give you an extra emotional boost. So I used your memories of her to pull her from the void and bring her here. She is from the same timeline as you."**

"But Hershel..." said Claire, her soft expression becoming tainted with a sad tinge. "Before you get your hopes up, I have to tell you. The timeline must be restored."

"That's what Time kept saying," said Layton, a sense of dread coming over him as he noticed her sudden drop in mood.

Dimitri sighed, and he looked wearier than he'd ever looked before, as though he hadn't slept in weeks and was having to carry the weight of the entire universe on his shoulders despite that. He said, "It means that your timeline must go back to the way it was. Everything. That means Claire as well."

"But..." Layton whipped his head back to Claire, a tear in her eye confirming his deepest fear. "No... You can't go!"

"Hershel..." She placed her left hand around his cheek. "Don't you see how lucky we are to be even speaking at all? Even though the timeline has to go back to how it was, I'm still grateful to Time for bringing me here. I-I get to see you one last time again..."

"No," said Hershel, unwilling to accept that this would be her fate, despite everything that had happened. Or perhaps because of everything that had happened. The power of Infinity had shown itself, if only for a brief spell, during the fight against Descole. He had _been_ a dinosaur – a creature that should have been extinct! And that was to say nothing about being a Chinese dragon, a creature that only truly lived in the thoughts of men. He had always known about this power, he supposed. He had been to Infinity before; he had just forgotten. But now for the first time he could _feel_ why Dimitri had been trying so hard to harness it. Infinity had the power to make thoughts real… Was there really no way to make this work?

"But… you're here now," he said, somewhat feebly, and suddenly he could remember the day of the explosion as though it had happened yesterday. "I… can't let you go. Not again…"

Time looked as though he was going to interject, but Dimitri got there first.

"Hershel, listen to yourself!" he said, anger piercing straight through the mix of sadness and weariness. "Don't you think I want the same thing? I spent twenty years trying to make this a reality! But it simply cannot be. I understand now that what I was trying to accomplish was futile. Claire's death must happen. It is for the same reason that Clive must go back to his own time. If we do not return things to the way they should be, we risk another leak to Infinity - another Time Crash."

Layton still couldn't quite accept this - not fully, at least - and he found himself looking away from Dimitri's harsh stare. How could Claire come back to him, only to be taken away yet again? He had already experienced the heartbreak of losing her once. How could Time be so cruel to put him through it all over again?

"I saw you fighting that man, Descole," said Claire, cutting through his panicked thoughts and calming them with her soothing voice. "You were so brave... And now, you need to be brave again."

Layton found it odd that she was the one telling him to be brave, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised she was right. He had to have the strength to let her go once more.

He held her close, and she leaned against his shoulder. At least he would be able to cherish this last moment with her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I haven't done a good job of taking care of the hat you gave me..."

"Don't be silly," said Claire. "I'm just glad you're okay."

**"Your hat is a hidden memory,"** said Time finally. **"It contains all the love, hopes and dreams of a life that once lived. I am dreams, memories, thoughts, emotions. As long as you have her memory within you - which you certainly do - I too will remember."**

"Thank you," said Claire, sitting up and looking at Polly. "For giving me a chance to help Hershel. And for saving him."

**"I did not do all of this for your benefit. Hershel Layton is important to the original timeline. It was imperative that he succeeded. But even so, I recognise the gratitude for what it is. You are... welcome."**

"We should let Luke know what's happened," said Dimitri, who, for his part, seemed to have collected himself. "He'll be going mad on the _Silver Blaze_."

"Actually, there is something I'd like to do first, if I may," said Layton, feeling a little better now that things had turned more business-like, because it gave him something else to think about. "I'd like to go on board the _Baryonyx_."

Dimitri blinked in surprise, but then he sighed, his eyes showing understanding. "Hershel, Time already took care of that as well. He's on this ship, in one of my cabins. No one's allowed to go in except me, but you should be fine. Everyone'll think you're the Prime Minister, after all."

**"I foresaw your thoughts,"** said Time, **"and moved the robot here. You may speak to him if you wish."**

It was no wonder that Time hadn't possessed enough energy to save Descole if he'd been going around teleporting both the robot and Claire instead. _I did not even ask him to do that..._ thought Layton.

**"This Descole was not important to the time stream,"** said Time, in response.

"I must politely request that you stop doing that," said Layton, though he had noticed the subtle emphasis on the word 'this'. What about the Descole in his own timeline? Layton hadn't seen him for years, but he had the feeling he was still alive somewhere. Did Time know something about him?

Time paused, and for a moment Layton wondered whether he might answer the question. But then he said, **"You would like me to stop reading your thoughts?"**

"Yes. I would rather they remain private, if you don't mind."

**"You will recall that I am made of thoughts. It is difficult for me not to be attuned to them when they are all around me. But I will try," **said Time.

Claire had been sitting through this conversation with a mildly confused expression. As Layton stood up, he kissed her on the forehead. "I am sorry, Claire. I must go to see someone right now. It is something I must do alone. But I will return as soon as possible."

"Okay," she said, smiling. "I understand."

"Time has to conserve his energy, so I'm going to take Hershel to the cabin myself," said Dimitri, to Claire. "I'll get someone to bring you something to drink. After that I must address the captain of another ship, but I'll be back as soon as I can. Make yourself at home in the meantime. I have a couple of books in the cupboard that you're welcome to read."

"Thanks, Dimitri," said Claire, sitting in a sofa chair.

Layton sighed a little, feeling unhappy that he wasn't able to bring Claire along, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her everything his alternate self had done, especially since it had turned out not to be his alternate self at all but a robot facsimile. Dimitri probably felt the same way. It was better she went back to her death not knowing the truth.

He followed Dimitri outside into the corridor, where he had to speed up to match Dimitri's brisk pace.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" he asked. "About returning the timeline to the way it was?"

"Of course," Dimitri replied. "There's no point in continuing now that my Infinity module has been destroyed. I just need to turn off the power to my time machine, and then... your timeline should be restored."

"What about the robot Layton? Have you… spoken to him?"

"After I successfully shut down my module, Time was able to teleport again, and before he left to save you, he told me that he had teleported the robot into one of the cabins on this ship. But the robot had been reactivated. So I went to see him before anything happened, and I told him what we had discovered about Descole. After he heard that, he… gave up. All he wanted was to be deactivated again." Dimitri sighed, and came to a stop outside a cabin door. "At the time it was all so hectic - I was eager to return to watching the battle - that I didn't have much time to argue, and I wanted to surrender myself, so I complied…"

"Will I be able to reactivate him, then?" said Layton.

"Yes. You should be able to figure it out easily."

"Would you like to speak to him as well?"

"No, I'd rather not. I've said all I needed to say already. If you'll excuse me…"

Dimitri left, and Layton turned back round to face the cabin door. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

* * *

After leaving Layton by himself, Dimitri returned to the ship's bridge. He sat down at the communication console, turned on the radio and braced himself.

_Here goes nothing._

"Greetings," he started once he had established a connection. "This is the _Antares_."

"Dimitri!" said Future Luke, anger evident in his tone. "What the hell's going on? What are you playing at?"

"If you calm yourself, I shall tell you," said Dimitri evenly. "I wish to tell you that I surrender. The past Hershel has persuaded me to give up my plans. I hope you saw on your screens that I destroyed my Infinity module. It was necessary to do so in order to defeat Descole."

There was a collection of surprised gasps on the other end, and then Future Luke said: "What about our Layton? Does _he_ agree to this?"

Dimitri hesitated, unable to say the truth - that the true Hershel was dead, and had in fact been dead for eleven years. He could already imagine what Future Luke's reaction would be. He didn't think he could deal with it right now, not when he already considered himself to be a failure on multiple levels. How could everything have gone so horribly wrong? He'd wanted to _save_ this timeline…

"He has decided to give up as well," he said.

Cheers erupted, but amongst the yays and hoorays, Dimitri could still hear Luke's voice. "I don't believe it," he said suspiciously.

"I have powered down the _Baryonyx's_ weapons," said Dimitri. "I will release Max's ship from the Com Link system in due course. We will be heading to Regent's Park, but first we will return Clive, the younger Flora, and your younger self to your ship. The younger Hershel has agreed to take over the _Baryonyx_ temporarily. You may speak to him afterwards, if you wish. He will corroborate what I have told you."

"How will we know that he's not under your control?" said Future Luke. He was being hopelessly stubborn, as usual, but Dimitri couldn't really blame him for being so cautious. They had been doing this dance for such a long time that this surrender was probably an inconceivable outcome for Luke.

"That's impossible. Hershel cannot mind-control himself. The past Hershel was always immune to the Com Link system. If he wasn't, our own Layton would have been prone to being Linked as well. We all know that isn't the case."

"All right," said Future Luke, "but we're watching you."

"Noted," said Dimitri. He clicked the radio off, putting his head in both hands. He desperately needed some sleep.

* * *

Layton stepped into the room and looked down at Future Layton, who was sitting with legs mechanically outstretched, like a doll, on the ground.

He took a few steps forwards and then stopped, feeling troubled by the fact that he was looking at an exact robot copy of himself, and it looked so _dead_. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't really him. The robot may have looked like Layton, but he wasn't the true Layton. He never had been.

And yet... the robot had possessed _his_ memories, not someone else's. Did that make him any less real than Layton himself? What about the people of St Mystere? They all had their own lives and their own experiences. They felt emotions just like any human did. Did they stop becoming people simply because they were made of machinery?

Sighing, Layton reached out for a couple of cogs on the nearby table. Dimitri had taken them out from a compartment in the robot's chest, but it was easy to see where they needed to go. He bent down and pushed them inside with a click.

Future Layton's eyes sprung open.

"You...?" he said. His voice was quiet; restrained. He remained where he was, sitting on the ground. "Why have you turned me back on? Out of a foolish sense of pity?"

Layton didn't answer at first. There were so many things he wanted to say, and so many things he wanted to know. But, in the end, it all came down to one word.

"Why?"

"Why? You're asking me why I did all that I did?" said Future Layton, face completely impassive. "Because I hated myself, that's why. My existence is a fraud, a fake, a nonsense. Over time I grew to hate humanity, I suppose, for possessing that which I did not. I was cursed by this prison vessel of steel. Once Dimitri had perfected the mind control, the first person I sought to control was Bruno; not only was he the only person that could repair me, I was desperate for a way to be able to taste. Do you know what it's like to yearn for the taste of an Earl Grey, and yet not be able to truly taste it in the same way ever again? It was excruciating. I may have been murderously angry with Bill, but it was the day I discovered I was a robot when I truly lost it. A simple cup of tea was all it took to set me off, Hershel."

Layton wasn't satisfied with this answer, but he wasn't entirely sure why, and then it hit him. He couldn't completely rule out the possibility that this madness would have happened to the true alternate Layton as well. What if he had already been showing signs of madness before Descole had copied his memories?

"I know why you're asking," said Future Layton, interrupting his thoughts. It was eerie how expressionless he was, devoid of any emotion. He wasn't angry, or sad, or remorseful. In this sense, and at this moment, he _was_ just like a robot. "It is because you are afraid."

"Excuse me?" said Layton.

"You are afraid of the future," said Future Layton, "of what might happen. You are thinking about whether you are destined to become like me."

"Would you not say that it is a legitimate concern to have?"

"No. And I will tell you why. When I discovered I was a robot, the only thing on my mind was revenge. I had already taken it on Descole – or so I thought – and so the only person left was Bill Hawks. I highly doubt the same thing will happen to you. First of all, your experiences are different to mine. As I just told you, it was the discovery that I could no longer taste – or feel – anything that truly sent me on my merry way. But more importantly, I believe there was a flaw in Descole's process. Memory transferral is rather unpredictable. You saw that first-hand with Melina. I have certain… attributes missing, certain core aspects of my original character that you still possess. You have the capacity to feel pity, which is more than I can ever hope to achieve."

Reassuring as this was, these words did not seem like the words of someone who had, some minutes ago, threatened to either kill or enslave an entire ship's company. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You are the victor. Do you not remember what I told you? We were fighting against Time, Dimitri and I - somewhat foolishly, I am forced to admit. Our two timelines co-exist in exactly the same point in space-time, which is an impossibility. Only one timeline can exist, and this is at the expense of the other. Yours is the correct timeline."

"So once my timeline is restored, _this_ timeline will disappear?"

"Correct. The streams will dry up. It will be as if we never existed. Did I not already explain this to you?"

Layton frowned, feeling his heart sink at the thought that everyone he had met would have to be sacrificed for the sake of preserving the timeline as well, not just Claire. Becky, Max, Belle, Don Paolo, Doctor Wilde, Future Flora... and Future Luke. He had known this already, of course, ever since Future Layton had revealed it to him earlier, but in the heat of the confrontation the information hadn't really had a chance to sink in before now. He had been so focused on his plan to expose the truth and oust Descole, he hadn't had time to think about the consequences.

"But - surely there must be a way of preserving some of it -"

"No," Future Layton said, and for the first time, he showed a reaction, in the form of a raised eyebrow and a stern tone of voice. "There is no other way. Believe me, Dimitri went to great lengths to search for one. Perhaps now you realise why we were fighting so hard."

"And Luke opposed you, knowing that stopping Dimitri's plan would put an end to your entire timeline?"

"I'm quite certain he did know. No doubt he refrained from telling you, sentimental fool that he is. But we are not supposed to exist. We are the true paradoxes, not you. This timeline's existence is, too, a fraud and a nonsense."

Layton didn't quite know what to say. This victory felt hollow, as though he hadn't truly won. "I only wish there was something I could do..."

"Humph. You're as foolish as Luke. We will soon disappear from the streams of time, and your timeline will be restored. That cannot be changed. It is of little consequence. My only wish - my final wish - is that I not be alive to witness it."

Future Layton picked up something metallic and rectangular from the ground beside him, enclosing it within his palm.

"What are you doing?" said Layton.

"You still have your life. So live it," said Future Layton. "That is what the true Layton of this timeline would have wanted. It is what I want, too, because I no longer have any reason to live…" Saying nothing more, he pushed a button on the disruptor, and deactivated himself.

If Layton had still had his hat, this would have been one of the only times he would have ever considered taking it off. "Goodbye, Hershel Layton," he whispered. "May you finally rest in peace."

* * *

Being alive was complicated, Time had decided. In the short period that he had gained a consciousness, he had learned a lot from this world, but there was so much he still didn't understand.

There was a whole morality surrounding life and death, for example. It made no difference to Time whether a creature died or not. Their memories - or soul, as humans called it - would always remain as part of the time stream, even in an altered timeline like this one. Time had no concept of endings and beginnings, either. For Time, everything just went on and on in an endless cycle. But the humans didn't see it that way. Perhaps it was because life as they knew it was not endless, that they cherished the short time that they had.

Time could at least appreciate that. Having been cut off from the time stream, he had been forced to see only the present, just as the humans did, and it was indeed scary, not knowing what the future would bring. At first the feeling of loss had confused and disorientated him, which was why he had not been able to communicate his intentions very effectively when he had first teleported Layton and Luke to the point at which the timeline had been changed.

But emotions like the venomous hatred that Dimitri had felt for Bill, the tender love between Claire and Layton, and the friendships between Flora, Clive, and the younger Luke; these still eluded Time.

And sex. What was the point of that, anyway? Whose bright idea had that been? To have differing sexes in order to procreate, and thus extend life in that way? Was that how it worked? Very strange. Time had only taken on a male gender because that was the parrot's gender. That in itself was scary; maybe soon he'd gain a body of his own and manifest as an Amazon parrot.

He didn't understand any of it, frankly. Why was he even alive?

Suddenly, things seemed to be on the move. Polly was in control of his body at the moment, and he had taken off, flying out of the corridor and into the canteen area. He landed on the window sill, preening his feathers with his beak before settling into a composed position.

Claire was also sitting in the canteen, eating what looked to be some potatoes and other vegetables. In order to avoid panic and confusion amongst the general populace, Layton had agreed to pose as his alternate self - at least until they reached their destination, which meant that he was on the Prime Minister's ship. The three younger humans had returned to the _Silver Blaze_ and were entertaining themselves with puzzles in Future Luke's room.

Why Claire had elected to stay on this ship and sit here by herself instead of staying with the children Time could not know without penetrating her thoughts, but her emotions felt _contemplative _and _miserable_. She was sad, he surmised, because she didn't have much time left.

And then Dimitri walked in.

Claire looked up at the newcomer, and there was an odd moment when Dimitri and Claire's eyes met. He quickly glanced away, mumbling about wanting to grab a packet of cheese and onion Walkers crisps, and he went straight to the snack machine on the other side of the canteen.

**This will be interesting**, thought Time, watching Claire stare at Dimitri's back. Generally the dead didn't get to voice their opinions on what it was like to be dead.

_You think humans are interesting?_ said Polly, within his own mind. _Let me give you some advice: they don't like being spied on. Stay out of their heads._

**I'm not spying.**

_Sure you're not_, said Polly.

Dimitri had purchased a packet of crisps from the snack machine. He raised his arm to put another coin in the slot to buy something else, but then he stopped halfway and turned around. He walked over to Claire, who looked up at him with a small smile.

"I'm... sorry," Dimitri said.

"Whatever for?"

"For dragging you into this."

"None of this is your fault," said Claire in a gentle tone.

"I suppose not..." said Dimitri weakly.

_Lies!_ said Polly. _This is all his fault! Him and his stupid Infinity project!_

**He is not disclosing the full reason for his sorrow, **said Time calmly.

_Yes, I know that_, said Polly. _He's obviously hiding something. I don't know why she hasn't picked that up._

**But you do not understand why he is lying. He feels remorse for all the things he has done to try to get her here.**

_It doesn't change the fact that he did them_, said Polly, uncompromising in his dislike of Dimitri.

**And he's also... ashamed?** said Time, trying to discern this new emotion.

_Quite right that he's ashamed! He's the worst kind of jerkass, a jerkass who didn't even know he was a jerkass! He just kept going and going and going, without a thought of what the consequences would be! And now he has the cheek to feel remorse?! He should have stopped himself before he ever got that far!_

Time just couldn't bring himself to feel the same anger that Polly was radiating. It was true that Dimitri had tried to manipulate the time stream, and yet…

**...I know what these emotions are, I can sense them, identify them... but I cannot experience them myself. Why? Why am I here?**

_Didn't you tell me it was to do with something Dimitri did in the original timeline?_

**That is how I came into being. It does not answer why. Why do I exist? Indeed, why are **_**you**_** here? Why do you exist? Do you know the answer to that?**

Now Polly calmed down. When he next spoke, he sounded amused. _Now I see what's bugging you._ _But_ _why so many questions? Trust me, it's a good thing you don't know why you exist. And it's even better that you can't feel. You need to remain impartial, don't you? Otherwise, how can you flow indiscriminately and endlessly throughout the ages?_

**...Polly, you are a far wiser creature than I. In this particular regard, you are correct.**

_Heh. I'm not just a pretty bird, y'know._

**But that only means we must return the timeline to normal as soon as possible. The more time I spend here, the more emotions I seem to acquire.**

_Let's give the humans a nudge when we get to the Time Machine Facility, then, eh? It'd be quite the disaster if you ever started becoming as barmy as that Descole bloke._

"It was an accident..." Dimitri said, and both Polly and Time returned their attention to the two humans. "I never meant for you to die."

"Of course you didn't!" said Claire. "No one did. It was something we shouldn't have been doing anyway... We all knew the risks, Dimitri. Please don't blame yourself."

"No matter what Hershel says, I won't change the timeline, not again, not now, not ever. I'm done experimenting with Time."

He sighed despairingly, slumping down in one of the seats, and then tossed the crisp packet haphazardly on the table, running a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry, Claire," he repeated. "Even in this timeline, I couldn't save you..."

"Dimitri, it's okay. I understand."

"It's not okay... That's why it hurts so much..."

**I feel remorse from him. A little from her, but mostly from him. I do not understand it at all. Why would they have gone through with that experiment in the first place if they knew that death was a possibility? Surely a human would strive to avoid a deep and unpleasant sensation such as guilt? And why does Dimitri care about my... well-being?**

_Why don't you look inside his memories and find out? Humans usually have reasons behind their actions. They're not always noble reasons, mind, but they are usually there._

**But I thought you said humans didn't like being spied on?**

_They don't. Neither do animals, if it comes to that. But I want to know what was going through Dimitri's mind when he thought it was a good idea to experiment on me!_

**That event took place in the original timeline, not this one. I would not find that particular memory within his mind, for this Dimitri did no such thing. In this timeline you escaped from your cage in the pet shop, and you lived a free existence within a London park. In fact your alternate self is still out there right now, though we have not met him. Are you still going to hold a grudge against Dimitri for an event that, as of right now, does not exist?**

_What the heck are you talking about? Aren't we going to change the timeline back?_

**Perhaps…**

_What's that supposed to mean?_

**I may be able to alter things ever so slightly. Living creatures deserve... more. I don't know who created us, or this universe, but if it is within my means to help you and Dimitri then I will.**

Polly paused, having gained the complete inability to speak for once. _Help us how, exactly?_

**I can't say. I can't make any promises, you see.**

…_Is there a reason you're being so enigmatic again? It's not as if you have to speak through hidden memories this time._

**You were right the first time. I must try to understand this person without looking inside his mind. Like a human would.**

Time took control, suddenly, and flew towards the table where Dimitri and Claire were sitting.

_What are you doing?_

**Research.**

_This won't end well_, Polly warned. _You shouldn't interfere in humans' affairs._

**I only want to ask a few questions**, Time insisted.

_If you say so._

Dimitri looked up as Time landed on the table. "You? What do you want?"

**"You are afraid of me. Why?"**

"Your staring unsettles me," said Dimitri quietly. "Well, do your worst."

_Do your worst? _said Polly._ Obviously the kind of human who sees the glass half full…!_

**I believe... that he thinks I mean to punish him for trying to control the time stream.**

_Well, are you?_

**No.**

_Lucky for him you can't feel emotions of your own, then, eh? Because I know I'd be ticked off if someone went in and messed my insides up without my permission._

"Um..." said Claire. Both humans were exuding auras of fearful confusion. "What do you want with us, Mr, er, Time?"

_Mister? It's not like you have a last name. Or a name at all, actually. We should fix that. How does 'Bob' sound?_

**Please let me talk to them.**

_Sure, sure. Sorry._

**"I do apologise for the brief pause. I am borrowing this body. We're sharing the same container for our thoughts, and my parrot companion is what you would call a chatterbox."**

"I suppose you are angry with us, then, for what we tried to do?" said Dimitri.

**"You misunderstand my intentions. There is no need to be afraid. I bear no ill will towards either of you. I am simply trying to understand you. Claire... I am unable to save you. The timeline must be restored."**

"That's all right," she said, somewhat sadly. "I've accepted my fate..."

**"Perhaps in another timeline, Dimitri does save you in time and you are still alive. Infinity makes all scenarios possible."**

Time glanced at Dimitri, who, along with relief, was radiating a completely different emotion. It was light and warm, and had replaced the sorrow, as if he'd just pushed a giant weight he'd been carrying down a steep cliff. Hope, and... something else.

Time looked back at Claire. **"He loves you."**

"What?" said Claire.

Dimitri blinked, and then scowled. How could humans simply switch from one emotion to another just like that? "I didn't say that!"

**"You didn't need to,"** said Time. **"I can sense emotions. You long to be with her, and regret not getting to disclose your feelings before Hershel Layton did."**

Time was interrupted by a storm of crisps raining down; Dimitri had opened the crisps and hurled the entire packet at him.

"How _dare_ you speak for me! I have a mind of my own, thank you very much, and I will not let you speak it for me! I don't care what you are, you don't know anything about me, or about my life! You haven't got a clue about anything, so if you're not going to do anything useful, bugger off and leave us humans in peace!"

He stormed off grumpily, leaving behind a rather bemused Amazonian Time parrot in a sea of cheese and onion crisps. Meanwhile, Claire seemed to be in a state of shock. She hadn't moved.

_That went over well_, said Polly, conveniently reappearing in an _I told you so_ fashion.

**Why did he become so angry? If they do not communicate their emotions to one another, how are they to reconcile their differences?**

_Here's the thing: maybe they don't want to reconcile their differences. Maybe they wanted to keep their emotions hidden. But either way, you took that choice away from them. That's why he got cheesed off._

**Oh dear. I think I see.**

_There's something to be said for letting things happen naturally._

**I think I am beginning to understand the remorse emotion, now, too...**

Claire sighed and bent down, extending a hand towards Polly.

Polly regained control and instinctively flew up, high on top of a ledge by the ceiling, where Claire had no hope of reaching. He ruffled his feathers in a proud _Just try and reach me now_! manner, and then prepared to take off again.

"Wait, don't go," said Claire. "Please don't leave. I just want to talk."

_Ugh, I hate English_, thought Polly, now to himself. _Why can't the humans just squawk and whistle to communicate? They certainly have the capacity to whistle, I've heard loads of 'em do it besides the Animal Speaker._

_Here goes nothing..._

"AWK. DEEP INSIDE MIND, TIME HAS GONE. DOES NOT WANT TO CAUSE ANY MORE TROUBLE, TIME SAID."

"Well... when he comes out again, tell him that if he wants to avoid trouble, he shouldn't go around broadcasting everyone's feelings. We don't always want to share everything that's on our minds."

"TOLD HIM THIS ALREADY, POLLY DID. BUT LISTEN, HE DID NOT. WANTED TO EXPERIENCE FOR HIMSELF, HE DID. BUT STILL LEARNING, TIME IS. EVERYONE MAKES MISTAKES."

"Learning?" said Claire.

"TO UNDERSTAND HUMANS, TIME WANTS. SEARCHING, TIME IS. TRYING TO FIND AN IDENTITY OF HIS OWN, HE IS. SCARED, HE IS, POLLY THINKS."

"If what I gathered from Dimitri is true, then you've got a living piece of Time inside you. What does Time itself fear?"

"SCARED OF LOSING HIS SENSE OF SELF, POLLY THINKS. IF UNDERSTAND THE LIVES OF HUMANS HE DOES, PERHAPS HE WILL GAIN BETTER INSIGHT INTO WHY HE HIMSELF IS ALIVE. AWK."

Polly didn't need Time's clairvoyance to know that Claire was impressed. "You know, you're really smart for a parrot," she said.

"THIS POLLY ALREADY KNOWS," said Polly, as an automatic response.

"Why don't you come down now?" said Claire. "I don't think Dimitri will be back for a while."

"GOOD RIDDANCE," said Polly.

"Why? Did something happen with you and Dimitri as well?"

"…WORRY ABOUT IT, YOU SHOULD NOT. FORGET POLLY SAID ANYTHING, YOU SHOULD."

**Is that concern I feel from you?**

"SHUT UP," said Polly, then he checked himself when he realised he'd said that out loud. "SORRY, REFERRING TO YOU POLLY WAS NOT."

"Did Time come back?" said Claire.

"YES. SEPARATED WE WILL BE SOON, POLLY HOPES. TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS, POLLY CANNOT."

"I can't even begin to imagine what that must be like, having another person's thoughts inside my head…"

"PAIN IN THE ARSE, IT IS. AT LEAST TELEPORTING POLLY EVERY WHICH WAY TIME IS NOT, FOR NOW."

Polly fluffed up his feathers and shook himself, before fluttering down to land on the table where Claire had been sitting. He navigated through the crisps, and when he saw what else was on the table, he looked hopefully at her. "FINISH THE REST OF THIS CARROT, YOU WILL? OR EAT IT, POLLY CAN?"

Claire laughed, walking to sit down at the table again. "Go for it."

Polly munched on the small piece of carrot, and then said, "WANTED TO HELP POLLY AND DIMITRI, TIME SAID."

"Help you? How?"

"KNOW, POLLY DOES NOT. DELIBERATELY NOT SAYING, TIME IS. BUT… UNDERSTAND SOMETHING POLLY DOES NOT. WHY HELP DIMITRI?"

Claire made a pensive face. "Did… Dimitri do something to annoy you?"

"NO," said Polly quickly.

_**Now**_** who is the one lying?**

_Shut up._

"I'm sorry about Dimitri," said Claire.

"APOLOGISE, WHY?" _She doesn't even know what he did…!_

"Because I know what he's like. I know how stubborn he can be. Once he's got his mind set on something he ignores everything else."

"NO KIDDING," said Polly. He tilted his head, making a squawking noise which in a human would be the equivalent of a sigh. "BUT UNDERSTAND, POLLY DOES…" he said slowly. "EVEN IF LIKE DIMITRI POLLY DOES NOT."

"What do you mean?"

He paused, but then figured he might as well tell her, since if she was really going back to die a death that couldn't be prevented, it didn't matter anyway. She seemed sweet enough.

"ONE DAY IN PET SHOP, FEMALE PARROT NAMED COCONUT, THERE WAS. BEAUTIFUL, COCO WAS. THE BEST MATE FOR POLLY, COCO WAS. COURTSHIP DANCE POLLY PERFORMED. TRIED AND TRIED, POLLY DID. BUT WORKED, NOTHING DID. INTERESTED IN POLLY, COCONUT WAS NOT. THEN ANOTHER MALE PARROT ARRIVED, HE DID. NAMED PUMPKIN, HE WAS. ACCEPTED PUMPKIN TO BE MATE STRAIGHT AWAY, COCO DID. AFTERWARDS, THOUGHT POLLY WAS A POOR MATE, POLLY DID. SO NEVER TRY AGAIN, POLLY DID. CONVINCED THAT NEEDED ANYONE ELSE POLLY DID NOT…"

"Oh… I'm sorry it didn't work out. But… you were in a pet shop…? Did anyone pick you up? You're a smart bird, I'm sure you must have wowed everyone with your ability to speak English so well."

Polly looked down at the table. Here was something he wasn't happy to discuss, though the thoughts came to him regardless.

_I lost my lustre. No one would take a depressed looking parrot. They wanted a responsive, playful bird. Not a miserable ball of shame huddled in the corner of the cage… When that scientist bought me, I didn't even care. But then the blackouts and the pain started…_

**And that was when you started becoming angry?**

_Yes but… you took me away from that. When you entered my body, I lost part of my memory and thought I was from this timeline. I didn't remember everything fully at first. I thought I truly was confident in myself. But now… All my jibes and cracks at other people, all my chatterboxing – it's all just for show, you know. Deep down I don't feel like a 'smart' parrot at all. I couldn't even speak English until after those experiments. How much of a hypocrite does that make me? I've been angry with Dimitri all this time and yet, if it wasn't for him, I would never have been able to express that anger in the first place. I was just a normal bird before I arrived at the lab… You only appeared in my body because Dimitri happened to pick me._

**I know deep down that is what you believe, but… that does not necessarily mean it is true.**

_Why __did__ you appear then? Sorry – I know you asked me the very same question, but… now I'm doubting myself._

**The answer to that is something I am still trying to find. But had I appeared in Pumpkin's body, I doubt I would have got very far. He does not have the mental strength to understand who I truly am. If he had been the one to be granted "intelligence", I believe he would have balked at the challenge. You, however, accepted me, despite your situation. And remember, you sought out Layton on your own, without my instruction or guidance. I was able to reach Layton because of you.**

_Is… that you trying to cheer me up?_

**It is not meant to do anything. It is simply the truth. Whether it cheers you up is up to you.**

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Claire said. One thing that Polly had noticed was that she seemed to be very patient; she hadn't minded being blanked out of the conversation at all. Perhaps she was getting used to talking to someone who had two minds in one body.

"APOLOGIES. TALKING TO TIME, POLLY WAS. BUT ANSWER QUESTION, POLLY WILL. PREVIOUS OWNER TREATED POLLY BADLY, THEY DID."

"…You poor thing. Maybe that's why Time wants to help you?"

"NEVER MIND POLLY. AT LEAST WHEN RESTORED TIMELINE IS, LIVE POLLY WILL."

"Oh, well… there's nothing I can do about that. I _should_ be dead right now; nothing can change that. But…"

She trailed off thoughtfully, leaning her head on one arm.

"PROBLEM?"

"…I never knew Dimitri felt that way about me."

"CHANGE ANYTHING BETWEEN CLAIRE AND LAYTON, WOULD IT HAVE?"

"No, but…"

"CHANGE YOUR FATE IT WILL?"

"No, it won't."

"THEN WORRY ABOUT IT YOU SHOULD NOT."

"I guess you're right. It sounds selfish, and the sensible side of my brain knows it isn't possible, but… there's an irrational part of me that wishes I could just go back home and forget about all this. I don't want to die..."

Polly waddled up to her side of the table. Now he was beginning to see why she had looked so down earlier. _She's lonely_, he thought.

"REGRETS ABOUT UNFINISHED BUSINESS YOU MAY HAVE. BORROWED SOME EXTRA TIME, YOU HAVE. USE THIS BORROWED TIME WISELY, POLLY SAYS."

"If I _could_ stay alive, I'd give your previous owner a piece of my mind."

"HA! LIKE TO SEE THAT, POLLY WOULD."

"…Will you stay here a while? Hershel's busy, and…"

"ALONE, YOU FEEL. UNDERSTAND, POLLY DOES."

"Can I pet your head?"

Polly squawked an assent, and allowed Claire to stroke his head. He'd heard animals could be therapeutic for humans; he supposed that was doubly true if the animal could actually speak English as well. For once he could be like a pet and offer companionship, even if it was for a short time. Someone actually _needed_ him…

_Does Claire have to die?_

**Yes. Otherwise the timeline cannot be restored.**

_What will happen to me when the timeline gets fixed? Will I go back to being an experiment again? I don't want that either… Will you help me escape?_

Time didn't answer.

* * *

Next chapter: ?

_A note about Azran Legacy:_ Although Azran Legacy comes out at the end of this month (Feb 28th) in NA regions, it was available to purchase in the UK three months ago, and (naturally) as a Layton fan I bought the game as soon as it was released in the UK. When I completed it, I realised that it had completely pooped all over my Descole backstory for this fic (not to mention a whole heap of other stuff which I won't spoil).

Being Jossed by canon is always a risk when writing for an ongoing series, so it comes with the territory of being a fanfic writer. But I felt I needed to remind people reading that the events of Azran Legacy (as well as Spectre's Call & Miracle Mask) don't happen in this fic, just in case anyone says, "But Descole is such and such, why didn't you bring that up in your fic?". He isn't spoilers in this fic because I planned this fic a long time ago. I just take a gajillion years to update. :P


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